


The Wildlife and Countryside Act

by Million_Moments



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: Birdwatching, F/M, Jealousy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-01-15 23:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Million_Moments/pseuds/Million_Moments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard has gotten a taste for encouraging young officers to reach their full potential, but Camille isn’t sure she likes the latest person he’s taken under his wing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> As you may know, I write whatever I feel like writing rather than struggling to finish something. Largely because if I am enjoying writing it, I feel the quality of what I produce is better. This means sometimes multi chapter fics are finished very quickly, sometimes left for ages and then rapidly finished, sometimes updated regularly. Also, this is not really about birds…even if this chapter really sort of implies it is! Special thanks for Virginie31 who provided me with information about French laws regarding egg collecting.

Camille supposed the young woman had sort her out because she had overheard her speaking French to one of the stall holders and wished to receive directions in her own language. She got extra lucky when she asked for directions to the police station as Camille was on her way in to work.

“Is everything ok?” She asked, assuming the woman may have some sort of crime to report. She did look rather nervous.

“Oh yes,” she reassured her. “I’ve not been mugged or anything! I have an appointment with a…” she paused to consult a scrap of paper. “Detective Inspector Richard Poole. I’m Lieutenant Dominique Combes, from Guadeloupe.”

They were about to mount the stairs to the station, but Camille paused to ask, “You _can_ speak English, right? Because Richard doesn’t know much more French than ‘ _Bonjour_ ’ and ‘ _Merci_ ’ I’m afraid. And he won’t even use those if he can get away with it.”

“Oh yes,” she told Camille, switching to the language in question. “Though my accent is terrible.”

Camille gave a small shrug, “I’m sure he’ll cope.” Though he might not fail to comment on it. Perhaps it would be best if she prepared the Lieutenant. “Richard is a little, um, eccentric. He is an absolutely fantastic police officer, honestly, and not nearly as bad-tempered or finicky as the persona he presents. He’s actually very sweet, really, but a bit shy and it can take time to, um -” Camille realised perhaps she was going into a little more detail than necessary, especially since Lieutenant Combes was watching her with a barely suppressed amusement. “Well, anyway, don’t be _too_ offended if he is a bit brusque.”

At least Camille could say she had warned her.

 

* * *

 

 

Richard could tell from the tone of voice that Dwayne used when he called out a greeting that an attractive woman had just walked in the door. This meant he had a moment to mentally prepare himself to _not_ ogle. Not that he was admitting he actually ever did ogle women…at least, he never did it on purpose. He looked up to see a young woman, probably not much more than 26 or 27, smiling politely at Dwayne. Her hair was relaxed, a term her had learnt when forced to suffer through Catherine and Camille debating the merits of the process when he was trying to enjoy his tea in peace. When they had begun to discuss the cost, he had choked on his tea at the excessive amounts of money involved.

“Why would you spend that sort of money? Your hair is fine!” Catherine had given him a look to indicate that perhaps _fine_ was not the best adjective to go with but before she could say anything Camille had shrugged and agreed it was unlikely to be worth the money. Apparently the woman Dwayne was attempting to chat up _did_ think it was worth the money, and considering it rather suited her perhaps this was true. To go with the nice hair she had big brown eyes and bright smile that led Richard to conclude that he could see why Dwayne was turning on the charm.

They were speaking in French, and it was a surprise to him (and also to Dwayne) when he heard his name mentioned. He apparently knew enough body language (with maybe just enough French by now) to understand the woman was making her excuses and crossing the room to talk to _him_. Thankfully, she switched to English.

“Detective Inspector Poole, I’m Lieutenant Combes, we emailed?”

Well, she was _so_ not what he had been expecting, “Right, of course, yes, you did say it would be around this time, didn’t you? Um, nice to meet you.” He was blathering in an attempt to hide his surprise. Unfortunately her keen skills of detection picked up on this.

“Is everything ok?” She asked, looking a little concerned. “Is now a bad time?”

“Yes, I mean no, I mean - well yes to everything is ok. And now is fine, I’m just, um, well, truth be told I was expecting a man.” She raised both eyebrows at this, and he was struck by a sudden fear she would think he was some kind of sexist who didn’t like working with women. “Not that I have a problem with the fact you are a woman!” God, his defensiveness probably just made him come across as more guilty. He might as well have started the sentence with ‘I’m not a sexist, but…’ “Its fine you’re a woman, honest. And I didn’t think you were a man from the way you wrote the emails or anything…” Why couldn’t he stop speaking? Behind her, he could see Dwayne physically cringing whilst Camille was attempting to suppress a fit of giggles.

“Then why did you?” She asked, wide-eyed.

He looked at the floor in embarrassment, only to find his eyes lingering a little too long on a pair of legs which he sincerely doubted could ever belong to any man. “Um, I went to a school with a Dominique,” he offered by way of an explanation, and then realised it clarified nothing. “It was an all-boys school.”

“Well that explains it then,” She said, smiling. Richard stared, and she continued, “Why you would think I was a man!” He wasn’t entirely sure that was _all_ she thought it explained though, and he suddenly realised that she had been _teasing_ him. Which, considering she was the most junior rank a detective could hold in the French police forces and he was the local Police Chief, was bloody cheeky. He should reprimand her really, or at least make some show of seniority to remind her they were professionals, but he found himself inexplicably reluctant to do so.

Instead, he clapped his hands together and said, “Right, what can I help you with?” He sat back down behind his desk, indicating that the Lieutenant should take the seat opposite. She did so, pulling her shoulder bag on to her lap and removing a file that she placed on the desk between them. A photograph of a middle aged, rather middle class looking white male was removed and pushed towards him.

“This is Henri Punt, 55, a French National,” she explained. Richard noticed that Camille was listening in, considered inviting her over but decided to leave it until he was certain this would require her attention as well. “He arrived on Guadeloupe about a week ago. Punt is a known egg collector. Don’t let the appearance fool you, he is an accomplished climber and is suspected of stealing rare eggs to order as well as for his own collection.” Richard would admit that if Combes hadn’t told him otherwise, he would not have imagined the man shinning up trees.

“Under French law only a specific subset of bird species are protected from egg theft. Whilst on Guadeloupe Punt has had all the appearances of a man on holiday, however he was aware he was being watched closely. He took a few eggs of common, unprotected species – I am not even sure he wanted them for his collection, it was just him showing off that he knows the law. I’m sure you have dealt with similar criminals.”

She paused, probably hoping he would sympathise or something, but that wasn’t really his place and he was still waiting for her to get to the point of how this was all relevant to him. He indicated she should continue with a slightly impatient gesture of his hand. She looked chastised.

“Punt is booked on to a ferry to Saint Marie tomorrow. We have evidence that he has an order for eggs from, um, I forget the English word. _Pandion haliaetus_?”

“Osprey,” Richard supplied quickly.

“ _Oui_ , _merci_.” The Lieutenant looked impressed, and so did Camille behind her. “You like birds, then?”

“Not particularly,” he replied. She looked disappointed.

“He went nowhere near the 2 nesting birds on my island. I think he is coming here to go after your nesting pair who have unfortunately decided to do so outside of your nature reserve. No doubt he thinks the police force here is too small to be able to deal with him, and would not even notice he was here.”

Richard considered this information, and said with a small nod, “Shouldn’t be too difficult to get enough people to volunteer to guard the nest. People are _pretty_ passionate about the wildlife round here.”

“You say that almost as if it was a bad thing,” Camille piped up.

“No, not at all,” Richard told her firmly. “But volunteers can’t make arrests, can they? And there is _no way_ we can guard it 24 hours a day and I’m not willing to let him disturb the nest in order to make the arrest. It seems unlikely we’d get the chance to charge him with anything, that’s all.”

“Under French law only a specific subset of bird species are protected from egg theft,” Lieutenant Combes repeated.  

Richard frowned, “Yes, you said that earlier. Under the Wildlife and Countryside Act in England and Wales all birds are protected on the nest actually.” She smiled at that, and suddenly Richard realised what she was saying. “We don’t have to wait for him to steal Osprey eggs. We could arrest him for any egg.”

“ _Any_ egg? Even a pigeon egg?” Camille asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, any bird egg. I would have thought you’d approve.”

“Well, I suppose I do, but why would anybody steal a pigeon egg?”

“Well there are no members of the _Patagioenas_ on mainland France, so he probably would want one for his collection,” Dominique offered. “These people are rather obsessed by ticking off as many genera as possible.”

“Oh,” said Camille, seemingly embarrassed by her lack of pigeon knowledge. Richard hadn’t know that fact either – he assumed Lieutenant Combes must want to specialise in wildlife crime or had studied zoology at university. Possibly both.

“And you think if he stumbled across another nest he would take an egg?” Richard asked for confirmation.

“Yes, having read the reports of the officers who followed him, I am certain he would.”

“We could follow him for a couple of days, might get lucky I suppose. Do you think he knows the English law? I mean, would we have to be subtle about it?”

“I can help! My commanding officer has given me a few days, Punt is very likely to know the law and I would bet he even goes as far as to familiarise himself with you and your fellow officers so he would know if he was being watched. But I was never part of the team trailing him on Guadeloupe. I could film and call if an arrest needs to be made!” She seemed completely filled with enthusiasm, obviously pleased as punch he was intending to attempt to arrest this Punt fellow. Her smile was really rather nice as well, and he was reminded again of how pretty she was.

“I am sure we can arrange something, yes.” She beamed, and for a second he surprised himself by returning her smile – before he realised what he was doing and put on a more professional face. “Would you like me to take you to where the Osprey nest?” He surprised himself again by offering.

“I thought you didn’t like birds!” Camille cried, before Dominique could respond to his offer. “But you know where the Osprey are nesting.” Well he had rather shown his hand there, hadn’t he?

The Lieutenant glanced at him and must have felt sorry for him, because she decided to speak in order to save him from having to reply to Camille, “I would _love_ to see them.”

“Right,” he said, standing and feeling a little flustered under Camille’s stare. “Let’s go then, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

 

“You wouldn’t think it would take _all_ morning to look at one nest,” Camille grumbled. It was lunch time, and they had headed over to her Mother’s bar for a drink and a bite to eat. She had text Richard to tell him where they were, but had yet to receive a reply. She kept glancing over her shoulder, hoping he would walk in, and was getting increasingly annoyed at herself for doing so.  

“Are there any other rare birds on the island?” Dwayne asked.

“I think we have some sort of endemic species of wren, don’t we? Wouldn’t surprise me if that Punt fellow went after them as well. Though they are pretty well protected,” Fidel told him. Camille wondered if everybody on this island knew more about birds than her. “Why, thinking of taking up bird watching?” He held up a hand when Dwayne opened his mouth to reply, “Don’t make a joke about watching women already.”

“I wasn’t going to! I was going to say I was going to offer to show the beautiful Dominique some more of our local wildlife. That wren sounds ideal.”

 “I just dropped her off where you find them, actually,” Richard said, appearing at the table. “You’ll have to think of something else Dwayne.”

“And you didn’t offer to stay with her, Chief?” Dwayne knew he was being cheeky, his smile said as much.

Richard levelled him with a look, “No, because that unlike the trip to the Osprey nest, would not be directly related to work.”

Dwayne leaned back, he knew when to let something go. “She has got to be the most beautiful police officer I have _ever_ seen.”

Camille decided not to take offense, she did know the officer in question was prettier than her, but there was one thing she couldn’t help but point out, “We do have a rather small police force, Dwayne.”

“Well, true, but I’m still willing to bet she’s one of the hottest police officers in the world. What do you think, Chief? The Met has got to be full of female officers, would you say Dominique is the prettiest officer you know?”

Richard was a bit distracted, trying to mentally work out how many volunteers and shifts would be necessary to protect the osprey nest, and as a consequence rather than avoid answering the question he gave an honest reply. “Close second,” he said absently, then instantly regretted it. Everyone at the table was looking at him, expecting him to explain who the most attractive police officer was in his opinion. He cleared his throat, “Um, we had this PC who we used to send in undercover in rough pubs. Men would brag about crimes they had committed in order to impress her. She was, um, rather attractive.” They seemed willing to accept this, which was a relief. He hadn’t lied, that PC did exist, it just wasn’t who he would actually put in first place…


	2. New Act in Town

The woman who had walked into her bar was clearly hoping to find somebody specific there, judging by the way she looked around. Eventually she hesitantly approached Catherine and asked, in accented English that left no doubt of her origins, “Is this the bar used by the local police force?”

Catherine smiled, and answered in French, “Yes, it is, but you are a little early if you were hoping to catch them after work. They won’t be here for at least an hour, but the station isn’t very far away.”

“Oh, that is ok,” the young woman looked relived to be able to speak her mother tongue. “I could wait for them here. Inspector Poole mentioned this as where they tend to come, and I thought it might be an invitation but I wasn’t _entirely_ sure. It may have just been a statement of fact.”

“Interpreting Richard Poole can take significant training. You should run things past my daughter, Camille, she seems to have him ninety percent figured out!”

“You’re Sergeant Bordey’s mother?” She seemed genuinely shocked by the information for a moment, causing Catherine to raise a single questioning eyebrow, but then she recovered and said, “Oh, you simply look to young to have a daughter in her thirties!”

Well, Catherine thought a compliment like that deserved a free drink – so she asked the woman what she was having. “Oh, just some mango juice,” she said with a small smile. “I’m a bit of a lightweight. Don’t want to make a bad impression whilst I am here.”

“I think I know who you are,” Catherine said.

She looked up sharply, “You do?”

“Yes, they said there was a young officer over from Guadeloupe hoping to collaborate on an arrest. That is you, no?”

“Oh, right, yes you are right, that is me. My name is Dominique, and I imagine I will see you again in here – unless the team take entirely against me and never invite me out!” The poor girl must be the insecure type, she looked like it might be an actual possibility.

“Oh, I am sure that wouldn’t happen, you seem like a perfectly lovely person and Camille, Dwayne and Fidel are very accepting. They have to be to put up with Richard! He might take a little longer to warm to you, just to warn you.”

She gave a small laugh, “Your daughter told me the same thing.”

“Yes, they hated each other at first, she is very passionate and he is exactly the opposite – as reserved as you can get, typical Englishman in every way. He seemed to entirely lack social skills, but she has had a positive influence on him in that regard.” Dominique was listening intently, seemingly keen to learn more about those she would be working with, so Catherine decided to oblige. “They fight all the time still but you know, I think there is a lot of affection there these days. They have learnt to respect each other, and she seems to trust him implicitly. I really do think they are quite fond of each other. You know, perhaps I am revealing a little too much here!”

“As a detective I hope I would have figured it out,” Dominique told her. “Inspector Poole does seem an interesting character, but he was perfectly nice to me this morning, if occasionally a little awkward…”

“Perhaps you made a good impression then. If you can win _him_ over, then I am sure the rest of the team will love you as well.”

Dominique looked thoughtful. “I hope that is the case,” she said eventually.

Catherine could understand why a young officer would want to fit in with a team, but she couldn’t help but feel that considering it was (to Catherine’s knowledge) a short assignment, Dominique seemed to care a little more than necessary about people liking her. Perhaps there was something else going on, maybe success on this case meant a promotion back on Guadeloupe. Or perhaps she was hoping for a transfer to Saint Marie.

“Do you have a partner?” Catherine asked suddenly, thinking perhaps he (or she, Catherine wasn’t one to make assumptions) lived on Saint Marie.

“Oh no, free and single. Perhaps ‘married to the job’ a little.” Well, that theory was out of the window, but the possible promotion one seemed likely. Catherine hoped Richard was nice to the girl, she knew that one of his better qualities was the desire to encourage young talent. Assuming Dominique was a good officer, she’d get on fine with Richard.

Excusing herself to go serve another customer, she left Dominique to her thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

“I mentioned we might come here after work to Dominique,” Richard surprised Camille by telling her.

“Excellent!” Dwayne cried. “I hope she is here.” He rushed ahead into the bar, beaming at Dominique when he spotted her. They followed him in, and Camille couldn’t notice the smile Dominique sent in the direction of Richard. One that caused him to blush for a second or two.

“Hi!” She said brightly. “I hope you don’t mind me stopping by?”

The question was addressed to her and Richard (possibly more to Richard), but Dwayne fell over himself to answer before they could. “It’s great to see you, we didn’t get a chance to chat much earlier. So, how were the blackbirds?” He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her over to a table, where the others soon joined them.

His question received a blank look and Fidel stepped in and said, “I think he means wrens.”

“Oh, yes, actually I failed to spot any. They are rather small and the vegetation is quite dense around there. Hopefully I will see them before I leave here.” Dwayne opened his mouth, probably to offer to accompany her, but she turned and spoke to Richard before he could. “This place could be an option for me to meet you and pass on information, I should probably avoid the station once Punt arrives in case he spots me there and realises I am police.”

Richard nodded his ascent, “I also seem to have found myself living in a beach hut miles from civilisation so you could always meet me there if needs be, we wouldn’t be disturbed.” It seemed to take him a few moments to realise his suggestion could be construed another way, but eventually the smirks on Fidel and Dwayne’s faces clued him in. “Meet me for work matters,” he clarified quickly.

Dominque just gave a small smile, indicating she had known what he meant. “I got to thinking after my failed wren viewing attempt about something I read in the Punt file. He often goes on some sort of nature tour when he arrives in a new place, probably the easiest way to find out where the birds are. I came back into the town and I managed to find out that Punt is booked onto a bird watching tour with a local company by pretending I was a friend of his and that I needed to book myself on to the same tour, got a look at the computer screen and saw they are picking him up from the Queen Elizabeth Hotel.”

Richard looked impressed, “That’s good work.”

“Oh, I had to pull the act at three different places before I got the right one,” she said modestly.

“It’s still impressive,” Richard insisted.

“And after all that trudging around, you must be thirsty for more than just juice! Why not come up to the bar and pick a nice rum?” This came from Dwayne who, Camille didn’t fail to notice, was not offering to buy anyone else a drink. Dominique looked like she’d rather refrain from alcohol, but went up and followed him anyway.

“He is far too old for her!” Camille muttered to Richard. He looked surprised she would point it out, she had never done so before. Camille didn’t want to examine her reasons for pointing it out the fact too closely.

“Camille, Dwayne knows that, but when has it ever stopped him trying?”

“Do you remember how he reacted when that sorority turned up last month?” Fidel reminded them, they all shared a smile. Dwayne had never looked happier than when he had been surrounded by a bunch of twenty something blonde American girls all terribly impressed by his uniform.

“Dwayne is right about her being beautiful,” Camille said, studying the woman more closely. “I imagine she gets a lot of unwanted male attention.”

“Well, she strikes me as the sort of woman who can look after herself,” Richard said.

“What, and I you can think I can’t?” She snapped, receiving shocked looks from both Fidel and Richard.

“I didn’t say that!” He said, defending himself.

“Well, I suppose you didn’t,” Camille admitted. She wasn’t really sure what was wrong with her. When she had met Dominique in the market, she had seemed like a nice if nervous young police officer. But now she had observed her a bit more, her instincts were telling her she should be wary. She just needed to figure out why.

 


	3. Putting on an Act

Richard couldn’t help but note how well Dominique seemed to fit into the group, smiling and joking with an ease he was still trying to achieve after a year of being on Saint Marie. When he thought about it though, she seemed to largely fill the gap left by Camille that evening – who was unusually subdued. He had kept stealing glances at her, trying to figure out what was wrong with her, and they had all made an effort to get her to engage at some point before seemingly silently agreeing to leave her to her own devices.

On the way home, he reviewed his behaviour that day – trying to figure out what he had done to upset her. Camille was such a wonderfully upbeat, optimistic, affable person who only ever seemed to get upset by him, so it seemed inevitable that if she was in a bad mood he was responsible. Perhaps his mistake was in not inviting her over to listen in when Dominique originally arrived. He glanced at her, she was concentrating on the road, and wondered if he should apologise now. He hesitated because if he was wrong and that was not the reason she was upset, apologising for the wrong thing would make her angrier. It also felt like too much time had passed from the incident to venture an apology now.

Richard let out a long breath, causing Camille to glance at him. He decided to bring up the plans for the next day, “We should go to the hotel where Dominque is staying to see her before she goes out on that nature walk. Punt is on the first ferry over and has early check in at the hotel where they are picking him up.”

“Why do we need to see her?” Camille asked, a little bluntly and definitely still in a mood with him.

“Oh, um, well she hasn’t done anything ‘undercover’ before. And, well, since you are rather experienced and very good at undercover work I thought you could give her some advice,” Richard was hoping she would pick up on the compliment, and she did seem to brighten up a bit.

“Right, yes, she’ll need not to draw any attention to herself and considering how pretty she is that could be a problem. We’ll have to ugly her up a bit.” She seemed quite enthusiastic now. Richard couldn’t envision a method to “ugly up” Dominique, but he imagined Camille must know a few tricks as she would surely have had to disguise her own beauty on occasion. He thought about telling her that, but then she might realise he actually thought she was beautiful, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for her to know that yet. Or possibly ever.

“I’ll pick you up at 06:30!” She called out the window of the jeep before pulling off. Richard thought that was a bit early, but supposed that perhaps Dominique would need _a lot_ of uglying up. He decided to text her on the number she had supplied him with to warn her how early they would be arriving.

 

* * *

 

 

Camille turned up a little early, sort of half hoping to catch Richard in his pyjamas. They were hardly the sexiest outfit on the planet, but she still loved seeing him in them. He didn’t even seem embarrassed by them. She wasn’t in luck, he was already dressed and necking the remainders of his orange juice.

“Are you ready?” She asked. She knew it was a little evil, but she was taking pleasure from the idea that she was going to get the opportunity to reduce Dominque’s beauty a fraction. Perhaps it would teach _certain_ people about beauty only being skin deep, and how women have many other important qualities, like compassion and intelligence and…other traits Dominique seemed to also have in abundance.

Mentally shaking herself as she got behind the wheel of the Defender, Camille vowed to grow up a bit.

“Since we are arriving so early maybe we should stop and grab something to bring her to eat for breakfast,” Richard suggested as he did up his seatbelt. The vow she had just made immediately went out of the window. Richard could just be such a _man_ sometimes. Faced by a beautiful woman he fancied he immediately became considerate and thoughtful whilst _she_ had to put up with his griping and snippiness with no traces of chivalry at all.

“Oh I’m sure she can feed herself. Besides why would you get _her_ breakfast just because it is early? You have to pick me up early for cases sometimes and I don’t see you presenting _me_ with breakfast!”

“I did last week!” He protested, and Camille realised that actually, he had. She’d been quite pleased at the time as well. And it also wasn’t the only time. Richard was now looking at her like he had no clue why she was behaving this way, which was good, because she wasn’t entirely sure why she couldn’t get a handle on her mood either. “Um, if you haven’t eaten I can get you something as well…” He offered hesitantly.

“I’ve had breakfast,” she snapped back immediately. Which was an outright lie, but she didn’t want him buying her some sort of pity croissant.

 

* * *

 

 

“Wow,” Richard said, when Dominique opened the door to her hotel room. He wasn’t stunned by her beauty, but rather the complete transformation from Dwayne’s “most attractive police officer ever” into a dowdy, slightly grubby ‘twitcher’. Next to him, Camille seemed equally taken aback. “You look…the part,” he offered. He had very nearly said “awful”. He briefly wondered if she had stayed up all night to achieve the haggard look, then realised there was an awful lot of make up on the dressing table and she had probably somehow achieved it that way.

“Oh I know,” Dominique said with a small smile. “I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself so I have made an effort to look as much like a, um, _indéfinissable_?” She looked to Camille expectantly, who after a significant pause supplied ‘nondescript’. “Yes, _merci,_ a nondescript bird watcher.”

“We needn’t have come so early,” Richard said with a smile, he was really quite impressed. “You said you had never been undercover so I thought Camille might be able to give some advice, but looks like you have it under control!”

Dominique turned to Camille, “Oh no if you do have any tips I’d really appreciate it. I’m sure there is loads you can teach me.”

Camille, who had seemed so keen the night before, now looked a little reluctant to Richard. But in an instant that look was gone, and she was smiling and nodding and perching herself on the edge if the bed as she spouted off various tips and Dominique listened keenly. Richard thought he had probably just imagined her reluctance, or that Camille was tired and it had just taken her a moment to cotton on.

Because, quite frankly, who wouldn’t want to work with Dominique?

 

* * *

 

 

“Have you ever worked in wildlife crime before?” Dominique asked.

They were sitting on his porch having a beer. Richard and Camille had spent the day investigating a fraud and once they were in the throes of the investigation Camille had seemed to cheer up and go back to her usual self. Well nearly her normal self – she was oddly nice to him all day, paying him quite a lot of attention. Several times he had expected her to berate him for moaning about the heat, or complaining about the quality of the tea they were served at the bank, but instead she was sympathetic. He really should be used to her mood swings by now, but he wasn’t and he feared he would never understand her, or know what she was thinking. It was actually a relief when she dropped him off and he could stop worrying about it, though here she was on his mind again.

“Richard?” Dominique asked, reminding him he had a question to answer.

“Oh, um, no not really. You don’t get too much of it in the centre of London. Maybe if I’d been with one of the rural forces.”

Dominique had stopped by to give him the rundown of the day’s events, and then stayed for a few beers. She was full of enthusiasm to learn, had been plying him with all sorts of questions about The Met and English law, and he had been happy to answer them. To his surprise, he had also answered some of the more personal questions she had asked – about his university days and the small village in Leicestershire where he had grown up. Richard wasn’t sure _why_ he kept talking, this was not the usual sort of information he shared, but there was something comfortable about being with Dominique – something almost familiar, and he felt that there would be no repercussions from sharing.

“Well, parts of Saint Marie are rural, I think!” She said with a smile. “It must be very different from working in London.”

“Yeah, well, the rest of the team will tell you I complain about those differences a lot. Don’t tell them but there are a lot of things I’ve learnt to like about here, that I’d miss if I had to leave,” he admitted.

“Like the people,” she guessed, and guessed correctly. The island was beautiful, yes, but it was the people here who had made it feel like home. He didn’t respond though, as that _did_ seem like too personal a thing to admit. She accepted his silence as affirmation though. “It’s funny, you and Camille seem very different, but I assume you must work well together?”

“Well, we have our differences,” he said, rather diplomatically. “But we do seem to work well together otherwise. She has skills I lack, and I’ve come to rely upon her for those skills.”

“What skills?”

“Well, she can…well, she is a bit like you really,” he said, realising it was true. “Good at the social stuff, putting witnesses at ease and reading them and stuff. I think you too would probably get on it you got to know each other.”

“You do?” Dominique said, looking hopeful. Richard thought that perhaps she admired Camille, especially after the ‘under cover’ lessons she had been given that morning.

“Well yes, from the stuff you’ve been talking about you seem to have a lot in common. She studied psychology at university as well. And is interested in nature and…stuff like that.”

“I’ve obviously met Catherine, her mother, who is lovely. What does her Dad do?”

Richard was surprised by the question and was curious as to why she would want to know, so he asked her exactly that. “Nature versus nurture,” she replied, which just puzzled him. “I am not saying we are related or anything, it’s just you said we were alike. My mother works in a bar as well and I thought maybe there were other, how do you say, similarities to our upbringing.”

“Well, you should probably ask Camille about herself,” he told her, Richard didn’t really feel comfortable sharing too much information about Camille. He was also worried he might reveal too much about _himself_ when talking about his DS. There was one tip he was willing to give her, “Though, her Dad isn’t around and hasn’t been for a long time, so I would steer clear of that subject.”

“Yes, I will do that.”

There then followed a slightly awkward pause, which Richard eventually broke, “Oh, um, sorry do you want another beer?”

“I am not sure I should have beer but could I please have a glass of water?”

He went to fetch her one and when he returned found she was no longer alone on the porch. Camille was there, and it looked like she had just arrived. It wasn’t that unusual for her to drop by of an evening, for some reason Dominique looked a bit embarrassed and Camille gave him a look like he had something to explain.

“Dominique came by to brief me on how the nature walk went,” he told her. She didn’t look any happier, and he felt bad because he had not invited her in when she had dropped him off earlier. But after her odd behaviour throughout the day he had just needed a little time alone, and it didn’t mean he wasn’t happy to see her now. No matter how belligerent he might act, deep down he was always happy to see her.

“Right,” she said simply.

“I was just going to have a little of the water and then head off,” Dominique informed them, still looking awkward.  

“I’ll walk back with you,” Camille said suddenly, surprising both Richard and his guest.  

Dominique was pleasantly surprised though, probably hoping to pick up a few more hints and get to know Camille better, “Okay, yes, that would be nice.” She forgot about having any water at all, and gathered up her stuff. “Shall we walk along the beach?”

Camille nodded her agreement, heading down the steps without a backwards glance. Dominique gave him a cheerful farewell wave, “Thanks for the beer!”

As he watched them walk away, Richard did his best to suppress his disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had trouble with this chapter, but I think it came out ok in the end. I thought Camille might be getting jealous a little too much too quickly, but then I decided she just has it really bad and hasn’t actually realised it fully yet! I am away at a conference next week, and then moving house, so don’t expect any updates for a while, though I may get another chapter out of something tomorrow.


	4. Acting on your Instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I still might be being a bit extreme with Camille, but then she can be quite hostile towards other woman at times.

Camille felt pretty confident that Dominique didn’t realise that this walk home was actually just a chance for Camille to question her, and perhaps figure out exactly what was bothering her about the young Lieutenant. Dominique was chattering away and Camille wasn’t actually paying that much attention at the moment, she was busy trying to formulate a plan of action, but then Dominique managed to say something that immediately piqued her interest.

“He sounds like he was a right character in university, doesn’t he?” Dominique was saying. “I would never have guessed from my first impression! He just seemed so uptight and, well, English. In fact almost the stereotype of an Englishman!”

“Sorry?” Camille asked, feeling sure Dominique couldn’t be talking about who she thought she was talking about. “You mean Richard?”

“Yes, Richard, Inspector Poole. He was telling me these stories from when he studied at Cambridge,” she replied, nodding. “Like the time he stole the cockerel from Jesus and when he hid all the furniture from his friend’s room! I imagine you’ve heard all these stories before. The punting story was my favourite, he’d _must_ have told you the punting story.”

Since Camille had no idea what punting even was, she knew she hadn’t heard that story. None of the others sounded familiar either, how the hell did Richard steal a cockerel from Jesus? “No, I, um, haven’t,” she admitted. Camille didn’t like to admit it but she was a bit upset this new girl had apparently learnt more about Richard’s past in one evening then she had the entire time she had been working with him. It had only seemed like recently she had begun to succeed in getting him to open up but Dominique had swanned in and succeeded immediately.

Dominique must have picked up on her distress, “Oh perhaps the right circumstances never came up to tell that one! You should ask him though.” When Camille failed to respond to her suggestion she continued, “Are you ok?”

“Oh, nothing,” Camille told her, trying to sound casual. “Richard just normally share personal stories very easily with, um, strangers.”

“Oh!” Dominique seemed surprised by that. “Well I do seem to be the sort of person people open up to,” she offered by way of explanation.

Camille immediately bristled, “What, and you think I’m the sort of person nobody wants to share their feelings with?” Dominique looked surprised by her almost aggressive reaction – Camille hadn’t meant to snap but her temper had gotten the better of her.

“No, no I wasn’t saying that at all,” Dominique hurried to reassure her. “You seem like a lovely person to me.”

“Thank you,” Camille said, albeit a little grudgingly. Dominique gave her a nervous glance, probably now worried about upsetting Camille further. Snapping at the girl hadn’t exactly been part of Camille’s plan, and she now needed to bring the conversation back on track.

“Why did you join the police?” Dominique asked suddenly, probably attempting to change the topic. Camille hadn’t really been prepared to answer questions about herself. This was a slightly difficult one as well. She got asked it a lot, it may be the 21st century but many people still found it odd that a beautiful woman should want to be a police officer. She’d actually given a few different answers over the course of her career.

“Well it sounds cliché but I wanted to do something that helped people,” Camille told her. “And the police has the added bonus of being able to legitimately beat people up, as well,” she joked. “And you?”

“Similar reasons, really, a desire to protect people, and help people in a tangible way.”

“And wildlife,” Camille pointed out.

“Yes of course!” Dominique said. “I, um, feeling that protecting wildlife _is_ protecting people in many ways.”

“How so?” Camille asked – it may have been a little cynical for her to question Dominique’s statement but Camille was curious by what the other officer had meant by that. Interestingly, Dominique didn’t seem overly confident in what she had said.

“Oh you know,” she said vaguely. “Wildlife and nature is there for the enjoyment of everyone.” Well, that was something Camille agreed with, so she decided not to push the issue further for now. She wasn’t sure Dominique was telling the whole truth, perhaps the girl had aspirations of joining another division, but didn’t want to seem ungrateful about her current position. That would make sense.

“So do you like working on Saint Marie? You were trained by the French police, right?” Dominique continued with her questions.

“Yes, well, Saint Marie is my home, you know? I loved my time in France but I missed it here. Plus I quite like working in a small team, we are all very close and work well together.”

“Yes, it must have been hard to be away from your family. When I was in France for my training all I could think about was coming home. Especially because my Mum was sick as well, but she _insisted_ that I take the place I had been offered and go,” Dominique said.

“Oh, is your Mum ok now?” Camille asked politely.

“No, she died a little while ago,” Dominque replied, staring hard at the sand when she did. Camille was going to offer her condolences, but the girl continued breezily, “I hope I didn’t disturb any plans you had with Inspector Poole.”

“Why would you think I had plans with him?” Camille asked, thrown by the sudden change in topic and a little suspicious of the motives behind it.

“Well you did come to his house,” she pointed out.

“It isn’t unusual for me to drop in to discuss details of a case or plans for the next day,” Camille said brusquely. She didn’t see any reason why Dominique should know the details of her relationship with Richard. “It wasn’t anything that couldn’t wait until tomorrow though.”

“Oh right, I, I thought it might have been a social call?” Was she fishing? The girl was clearly fishing. “You said the team was close. You are _friends_ are you?” Camille didn’t miss the way Dominique stressed the word friends either.

“Yes, we are friends, why do you ask?”

“Because, um,” she started hesitantly. “Well, he is a long way from home, so I think it is good he has made friends on the island.”

Camille wasn’t sure that was the real reason why Dominique was so curious. In fact she was becoming increasingly convinced that Dominique’s interest in Richard was not entirely innocent. Camille supposed it was possible the girl was genuinely interested in the man – but he was quite a bit older than her and from what Camille had seen from their personalities they would not be well suited. No, it seemed much more likely that Dominique was hoping to influence Richard in some way, utilising her considerable feminine charms to get exactly what she wanted. Okay, so Camille wasn’t sure what it was she was after – but she was sure she would figure it out in time. And Richard, poor, awkward Richard – she already knew he had a weakness for pretty women. He probably wouldn’t even realise he was being manipulated, and would get defensive and embarrassed if Camille attempted to point it out. She was just going to have to keep a very close eye on the situation.

Despite spending years undercover, when Camille was not ‘in character’ she was the sort of person who struggled to hide her emotions, her true feelings towards somebody. A quick glance at Dominique revealed that she might have picked up on Camille’s increasing animosity towards her, and seemed a bit upset by it. Probably because she realised Camille was on to her – but if she wanted to figure out the full story she better not make an enemy of Dominique yet. Luckily they were nearing Dominique’s hotel now, reducing Camille’s chances of messing up.

“Well, thank you for walking me back,” Dominique said sincerely.

Camille managed to conjure up a polite smile, “Sure, any time. Good night.”

“Night!” She watched Dominique enter the hotel before turning to make her own way home. Camille knew now she was probably going to be up half the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of forgot where I was going with this fic, but hopefully I will get back on track soon. And for those of you who are wondering, Jesus College (usually just called Jesus) is part of Cambridge University, and their emblem is a cockerel. They have a statue of one in the dining room that is alarmed, because students from other colleges nick it.


	5. Random Acts of Kindness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to get this chapter off the ground.

Over the next two days, zero progress was made. Punt made a visit to the Osprey’s and quickly realised the nest was far too well protected for him to risk stealing the eggs. Dominique reported that he hadn’t seemed disappointed, though perhaps a little surprised. It looked like there was a distinct possibility that the increased security had made him wary, and that the Lieutenant would be heading back to Guadeloupe without an arrest taking place. She did wrangle a few extra days to stay on and help, but Richard wasn’t hopeful.

It seemed to Richard that despite that though the case was going nowhere, Dominique was making meteoric progress on other fronts – namely ingratiating herself with the team. She’d avoided the station and Catherine’s bar since that first day as agreed – yet somehow Dominique was managing to spend an awful lot of time with them. Fidel, probably out of politeness, invited her over for a gathering at his Mother-in-law’s house. The young officer had checked first with Richard to see if it was appropriate – and Richard had judged it relatively low risk considering the location on the other side of the island from where Punt was staying, and well away from any tourist or nature spots. He had briefly reconsidered when Camille had shot him a bit of a dirty look when he confirmed it was ok, she did have more experience of undercover work after all, but he really couldn’t see the harm. He concluded she was probably just annoyed her expertise hadn’t been consulted, and he resolved to do so in the future. Besides, Richard found he didn’t like the idea of Dominique cooped up alone in her hotel room with only the TV for company – she was too vibrant a person to spend an evening like that.

Rosie, now a full blown toddler, had been a bit of a nightmare for Juliet and her mother that evening. The girl just wouldn’t leave the women alone, constantly running in to the kitchen to enquire as to what they were up to and offering to “help”, which usually just resulted in more work for the two women. Fidel, Catherine and Camille had both tried their best, but Rosie didn’t seem interested. Richard didn’t even bother trying – he and Rosie tended to give each other wary looks, he was convinced she was as scared of him as he was of her, but that seemed to work for them. But then Dominique had stepped in and _somehow_ managed to distract the girl – who in what seemed like a matter of minutes became completely devoted to the young officer. At first Juliet had remained a little wary – her daughter was with a relative stranger after all, but it soon became clear that one of Dominique’s many talents was getting on with children. Juliet soon relaxed, and had been able to actually enjoy the evening.

“I think that is the first time I have been able to eat my dinner without being interrupted since Rosie was born!” She commented at the end of the meal, watching as Dominique (who had barely managed a bite of her own food) taught Rosie some song in French.

“She is good with children,” Richard said conversationally. For some reason this caused most of the women to raise an eyebrow and smile knowingly at him – except Camille. Richard didn’t know _why_ his comment had caused that reaction but he wasn’t stupid – he knew what it meant. Embarrassed, he stared down at the table rather than try to deny anything – his stuttering and blushing would probably make things far worse.

Camille kindly changed the topic, “I should go relieve her. I can play with Rosie.”

“No it’s her bedtime,” Juliet said. “I’ll go.”

Camille looked a little disappointed, and Richard concluded she had probably wanted to play with Rosie herself. Camille was pretty good with children as well – a perfect natural in fact. Richard knew she didn’t like Catherine putting pressure on her for kids, but at the same time Richard didn’t think Catherine was doing it for purely selfish reasons – Camille would probably be severely disappointed if she did miss out on the chance to have children of her own. Perhaps Camille was thinking about that herself, because as Dominique joined them she became reticent for the rest of the evening – even when the Lieutenant made an effort to include her.

 

* * *

 

 

“Perhaps somebody else should meet Dominque tonight,” Camille suggested the next day. “Just to lessen the chances of Punt catching on.”

Richard, who hadn’t been particularly looking forward to a trek out to some noisy bar on the other side of the island, was more than okay with this. In fact he was quite pleased, as now he could be seen to be deferring to Camille’s knowledge of undercover work.

“Well,” he began, trying to sound like he was reluctant but after considered thought had realised that Camille was, of course, correct in this matter. “I suppose you might be right about that.” Camille gave a smug little smile and he knew his objective had been achieved. He had to make an effort not to reveal his own smugness.

“I’ll go,” Dwayne volunteered instantly. “You were meeting her at Bill’s, right?”

Richard gave a quick nod – he was not surprised he had found a volunteer for the duty in Dwayne. The man had not been subtle about his attraction to the girl and there also no way he would pass up an opportunity to charge work for going to a bar. No doubt Richard would sign off on the receipts, forced to admit that _yes_ , it would look a little suspicious if they weren’t drinking. Even though they technically weren’t undercover at the bar, just using it as a meeting location. Mind he would grumble about it for a little while – couldn’t have them thinking he was getting soft.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The following morning Dwayne arrived bleary eyed but cheerful as anything. Richard frowned and wondered just how much of the department’s budget had been spent on rum, beer and cocktails. As he sat down at his desk he started whistling, and Camille ended up looking at him in surprise.

“Dwayne Myers, we all know what that whistling means…” She began, grin lighting up her face. Actually, Richard had managed to forget until Camille gave him that reminder. He refrained from shuddering.

“Turns out young Miss Combes is an excellent wing-woman!” Dwayne said, kicking back.

It wasn’t a phrase that any of them were apparently familiar with.

“You know,” Dwayne persisted. “A wing-woman! A lady who’s willing to help with the ladies, you know. She put in a good word for me with Leanne! And it worked out _very_ well for me.”

“Spare us the details!” Richard said quickly. Camille looked frustrated, normally she didn’t mind Dwayne’s antics.

“I thought it was _her_ you were interested in,” Camille pointed out. “Something about her being the most beautiful police officer you’ve ever seen…”

“Well, after a few discussions with her, it seemed obvious she wasn’t interested in me,” Dwayne said rather diplomatically. “I am able to take a hint.” Fidel, who had been taking a sip of coffee, ended up snorting with laughter and spluttering coffee over his desk. This earned him a glare from Dwayne, who didn’t seem to like the implication he couldn’t tell when a lady wasn’t interested. “She made up for her lack of good taste by helping me out!”

“She _is_ nice,” Fidel said absently.

Richard let out an ‘hmm’ of agreement. “A good police officer as well,” he added. “She’s done well to follow Punt about for so long without being noticed. It’s a shame it doesn’t look like we’ll make an arrest, she really deserves one.”

“That reminds me Chief, we also bumped into him at the bar!” Dwayne said.

“What?” Richard asked in disbelief. “And you decided to tell us about your love life _before_ something relevant to the investigation like that!” Richard honestly thought Dwayne beggared belief on occasion.

Dwayne grimaced, “Well, you see, Leanne and I were up rather late…”

“Save your excuses, tell us what happened with Punt.”

“Well you know how she’s been dressing down for following him,” Dwayne paused and Richard nodded for him to continue. “Well she wasn’t dressed down last night, that is for sure, and Punt didn’t seem to recognise her, but she certainly caught his attention in other ways! Since the following around didn’t seem to be working out, we decided between us perhaps another method could be tried…”

“ _What method?_ ” Richard asked, fearing he knew the answer.

“Well, the idea was I would leave her on her own to look a little lonely…Luckily Leanne helped with that…and hopefully he would come and keep her company. Though she had to put up with _a lot_ of male attention from other people first. Used it to her advantage though, shot a pleading look at Punt who felt the need to come ‘rescue her’,” Dwayne concluded his story with a little chuckle.

Richard reaction was not one of amusement. Fidel got the question out before him though, “And what is the plan after that? Is she hoping to get him to confess with her, um…” Fidel seemed embarrassed he had even started that sentence.

“She was hoping to maybe get an invite on a little nature walk, get him to maybe open up about his illegal hobby. And she has managed to first part, they are going to one of the nature reserves tomorrow!”

“I can’t believe you let her do that!” Richard just about managed to avoid exploding entirely, but his anger was evident. Something like this should not have been arranged without consulting him. “This could be extremely dangerous for her!”

“Chief, she’s a smart girl and can look after herself. I wanted to call you but she was really keen on the idea and convinced me I shouldn’t disturb you – bit strong minded that one, rather like...” Dwayne paused and seemed to reconsider whatever comparison he had been about to make. “Anyway, Chief, I made sure she didn’t arrange anything for today – that way if you did disapprove it gives us time to cancel the whole thing.”

That calmed Richard a little, and he felt a bit guilty for snapping at Dwayne. He should have known the older officer wouldn’t have let Dominique put herself in any direct danger. “I figure one of us can park up the Defender outside the nature reserve, so we are right close by in case of trouble,” Dwayne continued. “Though he has no history of violence.”

“Two, and possibly somebody in the reserve as well,” Richard said firmly. “Though I am not agreeing to it yet. I’ll want to talk to Dominique later. I understand her enthusiasm, and it might not be a bad plan, but maybe I should remind her about procedure.”

“Somebody should!” Camille said vehemently. She looked really rather furious. Richard was tempted to comment on it, but then Dwayne piped up.

“Oh Chief, I nearly forgot, she gave me something for you!” He said brightly, apparently not bothered by his second slip of memory that morning. He rummaged about for a moment. “A present, no real clue what it means.” Eventually he found what he was after, and dropped it onto Richard’s desk. “She said she saw it at the market and thought of you. Said you won’t get into trouble for having this one. No clue what she was on about.”

It was a carved wooded chicken, nothing like the cockerel he had stolen all those years ago in university but then she wouldn’t know what it looked like. It was an amusing little gift anyway, and he found himself forgetting his annoyance with Dominique and instead smiling fondly. “That was really nice of her.”

“What does it mean?” Fidel asked, clearly too curious to resist.

“Ah, well, it is a reference to a story I told her from when I was at Cambridge,” Richard began. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised he had never told any of them the story before. His team often complained about him being ‘no fun’, this would be a good way of demonstrating he was capable of liming or whatever the equivalent Caribbean term for hijinks was. “You see, there is this college at Cambridge called Jesus…”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you we are _at work_!” Camille snapped all of a sudden. “You know, where we get paid to solve crimes and protect the people, not discuss pretty police officers and their nice gifts!” She stood up violently, grabbed a couple of reports off Dwayne’s desk and stormed out of the station. Richard was left in a state of shock, staring after her.

He half stood, vaguely thinking he might be supposed to follow her, but then paused to glance at Dwayne and Fidel who, thankfully, looked as surprised as he did. “What did I _do?_ ” He asked uselessly. It was, after all, he was bound to be responsible. Camille was right as well – they were at work, it would have been more appropriate to wait until after the shift was over. How many times had he snapped at them for similar reasons?

“Actually, Chief,” Dwayne began slowly. “This time, I am pretty sure it _isn’t_ your fault.”

Richard frowned, his experience meant he didn’t quite believe that. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“So I shouldn’t go apologise?” He enquired further.

Dwayne shook his head, “Nope, in fact she probably owes you an apology.” Richard was left puzzled as to what had caused the behaviour, and at a complete loss as to what to do next. Dwayne, who had always shown a lot of intuition, picked up on this. “Why don’t you let me talk to her, Chief?”

He didn’t hesitate to agree. Besides, he had another apparently stubborn female officer to deal with.

 

 


	6. Acting Out

Dwayne was able to trace down Camille with the help of the papers she had grabbed off his desk: they related to a series of break-ins that had occurred the day before (very likely all committed by the same person) and no doubt she had taken it upon herself to investigate matters. She wasn’t at the first address, but he located her just finishing off at the second. She threw quite the dirty look at him as he approached, which Dwayne was rather wounded by – he didn’t really deserve it. He reckoned he could bring her round pretty quickly though.

“Did the Inspector send you to fetch me back?” Camille said, staring moodily out at the view over the trees to the ocean.

“Nope,” Dwayne said. “I volunteered.”

“You are good at volunteering for things recently,” she continued, clearly referring to him going to meet Dominique the night before. Dwayne thought this may well have been the worst mood he had seen Camille in since the Chief arrested her. That time it had been funny, this time it was scary.

“You know,” he began, moving to stand next to her. “The Chief does enjoy nurturing young talent. Look at all he has done for Fidel.”

Judging by the look she shot him, Camille clearly didn’t pick up on what he was trying to say. So he pushed onward. “Though sometimes I think that his attempts to give people the benefit of his experience is just showing off,” he joked. “But he genuinely enjoys teaching people new things. Like he does with you and the forensics. Dominique mentioned he took her through various fingerprinting techniques the when he spoke to her the other night. She also asked him a lot of questions about police training in the UK, she’s a very curious girl, keen to learn.”

“What has this got to do with anything?” Camille snapped, and Dwayne decided that subtlety wasn’t going to work here.

“Sarge, what I am trying to say is that he isn’t treating Dominique any different from the way he treats Fidel. She’s just a police officer to him who needs a bit of additional guidance.”

“Doesn’t _treat_ her any different?” Camille huffed. “You telling me he looks at her the same way he looks at Fidel?”

Well, she did have a point there. “Come on, Camille, he’s only bloody human! Besides, it isn’t like he is leering at her or anything – just the odd appreciative glance. Admiring a woman as attractive as Dominique is really no different from admiring a piece of fine art.”

“Is that how you excuse yourself?” Camille asked, amused by his comparison. Her improved mood didn’t last long though, and after a few seconds she seemed to remember why she was upset and returned to stare moodily at the ocean. Dwayne decided to wait her out. “There are plenty of pretty women on this island who don’t receive the same level as attention as _she_ does.”

Dwayne thought he was getting pretty close to a confession from Camille now. “Oh he does,” he told her firmly.

“Really?” Camille asked, curiosity peaked. “Who?”

“Well, you, largely,” he told her. “But only when he is _absolutely_ sure you aren’t looking.”

Camille glanced at him, and he saw a hopeful look flicker across her features, but it disappeared all too quickly. She clearly didn’t believe him. He decided to be more direct, “Camille he is not _interested_ in Dominique, except in helping her from a purely professional prospective. Ok maybe he is developing a bit of a soft spot for her, but not in a romantic way.”

“Has he _specifically_ said that to you?” Camille asked – Dwayne could sense anger simmering below the surface and knew he might be the recipient of one of her tantrums in the next few minutes. He was a grown man, he could take it, and unlike the poor Chief he actually _knew_ what was going on.

“Does the Chief ever talking about feelings, of any kind?” Dwayne countered. Camille shook her head. “Then of course he hasn’t said it specifically. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“It doesn’t mean you are _right_ either,” she pointed out sharply.

“Camille, look, I fully realise I am taking my life into my hands saying this girl, but do you not think maybe you are letting your jealousy get the better of you?”

“ _I AM NOT JEALOUS_!” She exploded. Dwayne took a step back so he wasn’t within punching distance. “It isn’t _ME_ who is acting unprofessionally, it’s _HER_ and it’s the rest of you!”

 “Camille…” He tried, knowing in reality it was useless.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” She seethed. Dwayne would actually never dare to, but he had planned to try a similar sentiment. “I know my instincts are right, Dwayne.  Maybe you lot don’t see it but there is _something_ else going on here, she is hiding something, I know she is!”

“Well, I do trust your instincts,” Dwayne said emphatically. That simple statement was enough to calm her down a little, and he watched as some of the tension in her body was replaced by relief. He no longer feared she would throw something at him, but he wasn’t sure how long that was going to last. “But, you know, whatever she is hiding isn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing.” She immediately bristled and he hurried to explain further, “You know, like with the insurance investigator. You were right she was lying and hiding something, but it wasn’t criminal or anything.”

“This isn’t the same,” she snapped. “What could she possibly be ‘hiding’ that would be innocent, exactly?”

Dwayne shrugged, she sort of had him there. “I dunno, maybe she has a boyfriend her on Saint Marie and is hoping for a transfer if she impresses us. Would explain why she wasn’t interested in me.”

“It isn’t that,” she said quickly, a little too quickly. Dwayne raised an eyebrow. “We _know_ her movements Dwayne, would have heard if she’d snuck off to see a man.” By that Dwayne assumed Camille had been keeping track of Dominique far more closely than was necessary – he doubted any of the rest of them would have said that so confidently. “The only person she has snuck off to see so far is Richard!”

There was no way Dwayne was pointing out Camille’s behaviour was a bit…obsessive. He would hardly call a scheduled meeting with the Chief ‘sneaking off to see him’ – unless Camille knew something he didn’t. “Perhaps he isn’t on the island right now,” Dwayne offered, he thought reasonably. “Or perhaps she is after a transfer for an entirely different reason.”

Camille finally reached her limit then, and Dwayne knew she wasn’t willing to listen to him anymore. She huffed, glared at him and stormed off. That girl, Dwayne thought, really had it bad.

 

* * *

 

 

Realising he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Camille, and unwilling to go back to work yet and tell the Chief he had failed _miserably_ , Dwayne decided to stop off at Catherine’s bar. Perhaps Camille’s mother would be willing to try to talk some sense into her daughter, before her insubordination got to the point where the Inspector was forced to actually act. “Dwayne!” Catherine cried with her usual exuberance upon spotting him. “What can I get you?”

“A beer, please, Catherine.” She raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the uniform. “Fine,” he said. “A light beer?” She gave a little shake of her head, but then with a small smile went to fetch him the drink. Catherine knew he was perfectly capable of doing his job after more than one full strength beer, even if it wasn’t perhaps ‘professional’. Considering how small the police force for Saint Marie was, they were practically _always_ on duty anyway.

“So what is it?” Catherine said, as she returned with his beer. She sat down at the table opposite him and gave him an expectant look.

“What is what?” Dwayne asked, trying to stall for time. She just stared him down. With a sigh he admitted, “Well, it’s Camille you see…” He saw a look of alarm pass across Catherine’s face, the woman obviously assumed the worst, and he hurried to continue, “Don’t worry nothing has happened to her! Well, ok, _something_ has happened to her but it isn’t exactly life threatening.”

“Then what is it?”

“Well, she seems to have taken a…dislike to our colleague visiting from Guadeloupe. One that is a little…irrational,” Dwayne explained.

“She doesn’t like Dominique?” Catherine asked, a little taken aback. “Well the girl _must_ have done something. Camille isn’t the sort of person who would just take against somebody. Have you asked her?”

Dwayne nodded, “She is convinced that Dominique is hiding something and has ulterior motives of some kind.”

He expected Catherine to be entirely dismissive of this idea, and immediately promise to have words with her unruly daughter, but instead she became thoughtful. “Well, you know, I have only met the girl twice but there _is_ something strange about her. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

“I suppose you are going to tell me Camille got all her good instincts from you?”

“Well she certainly didn’t get it from her father, that’s for sure,” Catherine said firmly. “Anyway, I’m not saying either of us are right, but it is a little _odd_ that we would get the same feeling off the girl. Can it really be a coincidence?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I don’t think it is just Camille’s intuition that has led her to form a dislike towards Dominique.”

“Ah!” Catherine said, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “She also doesn’t like the way Richard pays attention to the girl.” Dwayne gave her a surprised look. “What, do you think I am blind to my daughter’s feelings?”

“Don’t tell me you _actually_ think the Chief is interested in the girl, though?”

“Of course not!” Catherine told him, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s far too young for him, Richard just likes the girl because she is willing to listen to his silly little explanations of experiments and lectures on the rules and regulations of the UK police. He doesn’t treat her any differently that he treats Fidel!”

“That’s what _I_ tried to tell Camille as well!” Dwayne threw his arms in the air. “She wasn’t having any of it.”

“Well,” Catherine said, leaning back. “There is one key difference between Fidel and Dominique, I think we can safely say Richard has never sent an appreciative glance in Fidel’s direction.” Catherine made the same point Camille had earlier, and Dwayne realised then how very similar the two women actually were. “Not quite the case for Dominique, though it _is_ a little unfair for Camille to blame him, she’s a very pretty girl. Still, Camille has always been the jealous type. You should have seen what she did to one of her high school boyfriends when she caught him flirting with another girl…”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dwayne said honestly. “But if you suspect she might be about to do it to the Chief, maybe you should intervene…”

“I am not sure I could stop Camille,” Catherine admitted. “I’ve largely been praying Richard stops being so dense and realises what is right in front of him.”

“Yeah like that is going to happen any time soon. The Chief doesn’t have that sort of confidence. Can’t she make the first move?”

Catherine gave a heartfelt sigh, “Despite outward appearances, a lack of confidence when it comes to love is something my daughter and Richard have in common.” Dwayne had suspected that would be her answer. He stared glumly at his beer, wondering just how many years of tension he and Fidel might have to sit through before one of them broke. “I’ll get you another beer,” Catherine offered. Dwayne was going to need it.

 

* * *

 

 

Richard spent time rehearsing the conversation he would have in his head on the way to the hotel where Lieutenant Combes was staying. They were meeting in her room, which made what was already likely to be an awkward conversation even more so, but they could hardly risk the hotel bar with Punt in the area. It had to be done though, he needed to talk through this plan of Dominique’s and give her a reminder of just who was in charge here. Though he realised the reminder needed to be firm, he wouldn’t go over the top. He still remembered the first time Fidel had really disappointed him, when he had let Avita Jackson go after her husband had been murdered. By then, he had realised that Fidel had real potential as a police officer, and letting Avita go had been such a basic mistake his temper had gotten the better of him and he had perhaps been a bit harsher on the (then) constable than Fidel had deserved. Or at least that is the impression he got from the looks Camille sent in his direction. Well, at least Fidel had never made that mistake again, and now all his hard work had led to a well-deserved promotion. Richard could learn from the past as well, he would keep his temper under control.

He glanced up and down the corridor, then chided himself for being silly. His behaviour made him look far more suspicious then if he just knocked on the bloody door with an air of confidence. So that is what he did, to find it rapidly opened by Dominique who gestured him inside immediately.

“Inspector,” she said with a rather formal air once he was inside the room. Richard got the impression she knew she might have done the wrong thing. “Could I offer you a drink? I have water, tea and coffee here or I can call room service..?”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. Then clearing his throat he continued in a serious tone, “I need to talk to you about this plan involving Punt.” She looked a little defiant, standing up straighter, and Richard thought he might have a fight on his hands after all. “Lieutenant you are out of your jurisdiction. Your idea, irrespective of if it was a good one or not, should have been cleared by me before you went ahead with it. And I think you know that.”

“Sir, I understand perhaps my actions were hasty, but I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity. What could well be the last opportunity we have,” she said in an effort to defend her actions.

“You have put yourself into what could turn out to be a dangerous situation, if we were going to go ahead with this I would have to dispatch officers to the area to keep an eye on the both of you because, once again, you _are out of your jurisdiction_. I have limited resources Dominique, I need to decide how best to use them.”

Her defiant stance lasted for all of another ten minutes, before her shoulders suddenly sagged and she looked defeated. “I know, Inspector, and I am sorry. I was just desperate to take this last chance. When he realised the osprains weren’t an option due to being well guarded, it looked like the whole operation was going to be a waste of time, and I thought we might not catch him otherwise.”

“Ospreys,” Richard corrected her automatically. She looked at him blankly. “You said ‘osprains’ instead of ospreys. What are the birds called in French anyway?” He was curious, he knew there was some evidence that osprey may come from the Latin for bone breaker, _ossifraga_ , and wondered if the French name would reflect this.

She looked surprised by his question, he supposed it was a bit of a non sequitur. “Oh um,” she hesitated. “ _Pandion haliaetus_.”

He frowned, “No, that is the binomial name. Doesn’t it have a common name in French?”

“Of course!” She thought about it a moment. “Um, _balbuzard pêcheur._ Sorry, not sure how to translate.” Richard waved off the apology, realising this was a bit inappropriate when they were trying to have a serious conversation. He could look it up later. “Should I call Punt and cancel?” She asked him.

Richard had already made the final decision about that, “No, not at the moment. This is the only thing we have going on at the moment, work always tends to be a bit feast or famine round here, so I can spare the staff to accompany you. But if something comes in between now and your ‘date’ you may well have to cancel.”

“I understand Sir, thank you, Sir.” She said, looking relieved and sitting down on the bed. “I am sorry, Inspector. If I’m honest I suppose I thought I was being clever, you know, taking the initiative. Camille’s got all this experience working under cover and I thought to myself, oh what would she do?”

Richard crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. There was no way he was joining her in taking a seat on the bed. “Well, when she was your age, I think this is probably something she would have done.” He _really_ hoped that he didn’t sound like he was calling Camille old, because if it did and it got back to her he might not live long enough to apologise. “But now as a more experienced officer, she understands the importance of clearing things with the appropriate chain of command. It is something you will need to learn if you want to advance as well – despite what television and books might imply mavericks often don’t advance very far in their careers.”  She nodded emphatically, and Richard was satisfied he had gotten his point across.


	7. Seeing through the act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter. I am not very well at the moment and due to the fatigue hat this causes have not been writing (or doing anything much) in the evenings. Bear with me, hopefully I will feel better soon.

Driving home, Richard wondered if it was right of him to lie to Dominique, telling her an officer of Camille’s experience always sort approval. In reality, Camille often went through with her plans even when he didn’t approve of them. And, annoyingly, they usually worked out for the best. It was a source of much tension in their relationship – he usually did not hesitate to let her know _exactly_ how annoyed he was with her. And she did not hesitate in telling him why she was right and pointing out he really should trust her instincts. God, he hoped they didn’t have such a fight whilst Dominique was still here, he didn’t want her heading back to Guadeloupe and telling them all about her experiences with the funny little English Inspector with his mismatched partner, a feisty and talented, yet beleaguered, Frenchwoman.

Richard felt he had handled the situation just then with Dominique in a calm and professional manner. He had made it clear, without losing his temper, that she had been wrong to act without authorisation – whilst also acknowledging that using initiative is an admirable trait in an officer, and the idea overall did have merit. In fact, Richard felt it showed the sort of managerial skills he had been consistently told he lacked. The ones that had prevented his promotion to DCI – something he had mentally tried to convince himself he didn’t want anyway. The rank of DCI usually meant a slow decent into paper pushing rather than real policing. But instead of feeling proud or simply satisfied, he felt guilty.

Guilty because he _had_ managed to treat Dominique different from Camille – God knows he had experience of having difficult conversations with her, but they never ended well. And Fidel and Dwayne – they had both felt the brunt of his anger in the past as well. He found himself mulling over the reasons why as he pulled up at the station, needing to complete paperwork before he headed home. Was he perhaps finally mellowing? The Caribbean relaxed attitude seeping in despite his best attempts to resist? That didn’t explain the massive fight he had had with Camille only two weeks previously, when she had gotten her shoulder dislocated attempting to arrest two men much larger than her without calling for back up.

So was there a particular reason he had treated Dominique differently? She was young, perhaps she brought out his paternal side. Not that he was sure he _had_ a paternal side at all. Richard also liked to think he wasn’t quite old enough to be her father, but perhaps he was, he couldn’t be sure of her exact age. Yet, once again, he was forced to remember he had snapped at Fidel before. On many an occasion Camille had accused him of being softer on the “pretty” suspects – treating them differently. Now Richard found himself panicking that this was the case with Dominique – because if so, that would not be good management. That would be…sexual harassment?

He sat behind the wheel and tried to calm himself down, quickly realising he was being ridiculous. Wasn’t he? Dominique was attractive, yes, intelligent as well – an excellent police officer. Richard wasn’t usually quick to like people, but he had found himself taken with her within hours of their first meeting. The girl should definitely consider undercover work, she easily inspired trust. And Richard came to the conclusion that, yes, she was just a girl really. Far too young for him. Climbing the stairs to the station, he realised that didn’t mean he wouldn’t like her to stick around. If Saint Marie had the budget she would be an excellent addition to the team. If it weren’t for one thing…It was pretty obvious Camille did not like her.

Richard didn’t know why Camille disliked her, but he knew that whilst Dominique might prove to be a valuable member of the team should she join, Camille was an absolutely essential one. Despite their arguments, caused by their clashing personalities, Richard couldn’t actually imagine turning up to work and her _not_ being there. Well, he could, but the thought made him feel rather nauseous.

No, it would be for the best if Dominique returned to Guadeloupe. He hoped that the Commissioner didn’t hear about her, he had a way of manipulating things to his advantage. Then Richard had an idea of how to reduce the temptation to keep her here, or at least make it harder. The Lieutenant did deserve some praise for the way she had handled the case so far – managing to follow Punt for days without being spotted, coming up with a plan under pressure to enable them to carry on and possibly get an arrest. Logically, it would make more sense to wait until after the operation was over tomorrow. But Richard knew that the operation might not be a success, and then it would be odd to have to end his planned compliments on a negative. By praising her now the police service in Guadeloupe would no doubt be keener to keep her in the event the notion of a transfer did come up – and it wouldn’t hurt her future promotion prospects either.

Intensely glad Camille was not here, Richard retrieved the piece of paper from a draw on which she had written out, with phonetic spellings of the more challenging words in brackets, how to ask to talk to a specific person when calling the station in Basse-Terre. Richard had been forced to do this because apparently it was considered rude to just launch into English. He didn’t think that was a valid excuse for just hanging up on him, but then Camille had asked what he would do if somebody just started spurting French down the phone at him…Luckily he knew that the Chief of the Detectives in Basse-Terre spoke excellent English, they had had to communicate on several occasions. Though that apparently didn’t mean he could have his direct number…Richard suspected the entire French race were obsessed with making the English attempt their language.

“ _Bonsoir, Commissariat de Basse Terre, Comment puis-je vous aider?”_ The voice at the other end was remarkably perky. Richard just had to hope they were asking what he thought they were asking.

“ _Bonjour,”_ he said, realising instantly that since it was past 18:00 that was probably incorrect but he didn’t really care. “ _Ici_ Detective Inspector Richard Poole, Saint Marie Police Force,” he deliberately ignored Camille’s translation for his rank and station. “ _Je voudrais parler Ã Commissaire Rapace_.” He paused, and then added, “ _S’il vous plait._ ”

“Putting you through now, Inspector Poole,” the woman replied in perfect English, proving Richard right that _they_ were the ones being rude when they hung up on him for speaking English. He swore he could hear the women smiling down the phone as well. Richard wasn’t surprised the Commissaire was still in, the man was as much as a workaholic as he was.

“Inspector Poole!” The heavily accented voice cried. “How are you, my friend?” The two had never met, so he was not sure they qualified as friends, but now was not the time to comment on that.

“I’m fine, thank you, and yourself?”

“Perfect, my forth grandchild was born at the weekend! The first girl, she is called Donna.” Richard muttered something polite and sensing he was not on the phone for idle chit chat Rapace asked, “So is it a case you are calling about?”

“Yes and no,” Richard responded. “We are working on the Punt case…”

“I am sorry, Punt case?”

“The illegal egg collector who was on Guadeloupe but is now on Saint Marie?” Richard frowned a little that Rapace didn’t instantly know the details, but then the crime levels if his island were a lot higher than Saint Marie…he probably couldn’t keep track of every criminal on the island. And not everybody had his ability to retain information.

“Ah yes,” the Commissaire sounded like he knew what they were talking about now. “Bay-Say said she may brief you on him when she was over there. Until then I hadn’t realised she had any sort of interest in…ah, crimes against nature.”

Richard winced a little at the translation, but largely he was confused by the use of the phrase ‘bay-say’. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Bay-say?”

“I suppose in English you would say BC, just what we call her around here.”

“Right, um, anyway, yes, I am calling about Lieutenant Combes…”

“Is she okay?” Rapace asked sharply.

“Oh yes, better than okay, she has been really helpful. Really I was just calling to let you know, um, what an excellent and, you know, resourceful officer she is. And how much we appreciate the help she has been given us.”

The last thing Richard had expected was his (admitted fumbled) compliment to be met by a long silence. Eventually Rapace asked, “She has been helping you with the Punt case?”

“Um, yes?” It was the only way Richard could answer. “You didn’t give her permission?”

“I gave her permission to take some time off,” he said, with a heartfelt sigh. “I suppose if she wants to try to save birds in her time off that is her business. But I would have thought given the circumstances…” He trailed off. Richard was desperate to ask _what_ circumstances, but knew it was information that would have been shared already if it could be.

“Right, well, I wasn’t really _aiming_ to get her into trouble…”

“Oh Bay-Say is not in trouble,” Rapace said, reverting to his officers confusing nick name. “Needs to learn to relax but not in trouble.” Considering they were both at the office past 18:00, Richard didn’t know if either of them were in the position to talk.

“Anyway, you have a very fine officer.”

“Yes, she is a pretty thing, isn’t she?”

Richard choked, “That is not what I meant!”

“I know,” the Commissaire chucked, and Richard knew he had been had. “If you think you can keep Bay-Say you are mistaken, though, Inspector Poole. That girl is going places!”

“I am sure she is,” he agreed amicably. Richard decided it would be best _not_ to mention the fact they still had the main operation planned for tomorrow. In fact he was himself wondering if he should call the whole thing off. Before saying good night to Rapace though, Richard simply had to ask, “Why do you call her Bay-Say?”

“Oh, because of her two last names – though she doesn’t usually use both.”

“She had two last names?”

“Yes – Bordey-Combes, hence BC,” he supplied. “Should be easy for you to remember, don’t you have a Detective called Bordey?”

“Yes,” said Richard. “Thank you. Goodbye.” He hung up automatically, not waiting for Rapace to say farewell.

Dominique’s last name was Bordey-Combes.  

Dominique was related to Camille.

“OF COURSE SHE IS RELATED TO CAMILLE!” Richard found himself shouting aloud. Because suddenly, a lot of things made sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think many of you would have seen this coming…


	8. Bad Acting

Richard didn’t rush straight over to her house to tell Camille. Of course he didn’t, he couldn’t. Just because he had discovered it, didn’t mean it wasn’t his secret to share. Plus a revelation of that size just before the operation was bound to compromise it. Plus he didn’t actually know for sure the whole thing wasn’t a big coincidence…Dominique might not be Camille’s…what? Sister, well half-sister, was the most logical he mused. Well she might not be related to Camille at all, perhaps the Bordey name was inherited from an entirely different man…who was he kidding? He didn’t believe in coincidences that big. And Richard would never claim he was as good as reading people as Camille, but a quick review of Dominique’s behaviour over the past few days made it obvious that _she_ knew exactly who Camille was. Dominique’s hesitant attempts to impress Camille hadn’t come about from admiration of a more senior officer, but a desire to have her sister (he assumed) like her.

In fact she had probably only been so nice to him to try and get in Camille’s good books. He harrumphed to himself, amused at the fact she thought that would help. Not so long ago it would have had the opposite effect, now it probably didn’t make any difference at all. And that familiarity he felt towards her that had caused him to…open up more than he usually would, that was of course caused by him probably seeing bits of Camille’s features in hers. He wondered if there was a genetic basis for the trait some people had to wheedle information out of you.

As far as Richard could see, his biggest problem was going to be keeping the damn secret. There was a very good reason he had never done undercover work, he was rubbish at acting. All he had to do was act exactly the same as before he learned what he had…why did it seem like such an onerous task all of a sudden?

 

* * *

 

 

“Somebody _has_ to tail you!” He said firmly. “You are essentially a civilian here, I can’t endanger you by sending you in without cover. How many times do I have to tell you this?”

They were gathered in her hotel room, Richard, Camille, Dwayne, Fidel and Dominique. This was supposed to be the pre-operation briefing, and Richard was unhappy because Dominique wanted to essentially go in alone. Richard had hoped to have the Defender parked outside and have Camille, hanging around in the reserve within ear shot. When he had asked her this morning in the car, nervously babbling to fill the silence, she had been confident she could disguise herself with a baseball cap and sunglasses and she knew how to blend into the background anywhere, including a nature reserve.

“I can understand your concern, and I am sure he wouldn’t spot Detective Seargent Bordey as a police officer, but there is no way he would take an egg if there was _anybody_ else around. The man is very successful and there is a reason, he is very careful.” As Dominique spoke, she emphasised points with her hands, and Richard found himself staring at them. Yes, actually, they did look just like Camille’s. He had never thought of hands as being something that were inherited before. There was a silence in the room, and he realised he was supposed to be responding to what she said. Camille was rolling her eyes at him, having realised why he was distracted, but luckily Dominique took his silence as doubt so carried on talking. “I thought about it really carefully. And though in the legal sense I am ‘essentially a civilian’, in reality I am trained extensively in self-defence.”

That was true, but he was still doubtful. Then Dwayne perked up, “I did bring the wire with me, so we’ll be able to hear everything that is going on and intervene when necessary.” Well, that was something he supposed. Dominique shot him a pleading look, which only served to distract Richard further as he realised her eyes were very similar to Camille’s as well.

Fidel cleared his throat and said politely, “Ah, Inspector, I should probably go move the car out of site in case Punt turns up early. Unless we are, uh, leaving Sir?”

Richard glanced at Camille, who was looking decidedly unhappy, before sighing and saying, “No we aren’t quite leaving yet. Go and move the car, in fact wait with it in case we have to move sharpish. Dwayne let’s get this wire fitted then.”

 

* * *

 

 

Camille was _not_ happy. This morning she had been semi-positive. Though she rejected his claims and suggestions at the time, having thought through her chat with Dwayne the day before she had let herself start to feel some sort of hope. Perhaps he was right and the Inspector was only trying to encourage young talent, and Dominique’s interest was only about ambition. Though Dwayne was wrong about one thing, it was not jealousy that drove her, merely concern for the team dynamic. They worked so well together, it would be a shame for a disruptive influence to ruin all of that. Then Richard had been enthusiastic and chatty (almost oddly so) in the car this morning, encouraging her to utilise her skills for the operation today. That had led to another small surge of hope. But she had been being foolish again. Ever since they had gotten here Richard had been watching Dominique intently, sometimes outright staring. Like when he had been watching her hands, probably thinking perverted middle aged white man thoughts about what he would rather they be doing. His behaviour was disgusting really, lusting after a woman so young he could probably be her father. His chatting this morning was probably caused by nervous excitement at getting to see her again.

At one point Camille thought Richard might be about to call the whole thing off, and she found she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Obviously she didn’t _want_ Punt to continue to go unpunished for his deeds, but it would have been a relief to have the whole thing over and done with. Load Dominique on to the next ferry to Guadeloupe with a cheery wave and a false promise to stay in touch.

Dwayne was pulling out the wire, and Camille knew something was wrong from the look on Richard’s face. “That is it?” He cried. “That looks like something out of _Ashes to Ashes_.”

She didn’t get the reference, but when she looked at what Dwayne was holding she could understand his alarm. The last bit of recorded surveillance had been done with an old Dictaphone of hers…and this technology appeared to be even more antiquated. In fact they might have had better luck with the Dictaphone than that monstrosity, if the whole bloody device hadn’t been sent to Manchester as part of the trial against Doug Anderson. Dominique looked a bit sick and Camille couldn’t really blame her. “Is that really the best equipment we have?” Richard asked next.

“Sorry Chief, we don’t exactly do a lot of wire taps and all that around here. It still works fine though, I tested it all myself last night.”

“Could we not borrow something a little more…discrete from Guadeloupe?” He posed this question to both Camille and Dominique. The latter shrugged and Camille replied, “I have plenty of contacts but it isn’t going to get her on time, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Richard said, staring at the floor like he was ashamed he hadn’t thought about it before. Camille thought that perhaps now the operation would be cancelled. Richard was clearly having a serious think…and she found she felt sorry for him. His concern was about a fellow officer in this context, rather than a girl he fancied. There was no way they could go ahead without the wire regardless of her safety anyway, Punt could easily claim entrapment in court without additional evidence of their interactions.

“You have a backpack?” Camille asked, standing up and taking the wire from Dwayne.

“Uh, yes,” Dominique responded.

“Sir, I think we can easily hide the device with the backpack. That is if you want to continue?”

Richard took another moment to think about it, before flapping hand to indicate she should continue. Camille raised an eyebrow at the two men before she suggested, “Well you might want to step outside whilst we get this fitted.”

Richard, unlike Dwayne, had the good grace to look embarrassed and ran for the door without looking back. Dwayne dropped Dominique a wink before saying cheekily, “Don’t let Camille mess up your pretty outfit.” Camille rolled her eyes, to which Dwayne responded, “Oh a double eye roll, I am wounded.” Clearly Dominique had had the same reaction as her, well she supposed there had to be something they agreed on.

Camille turned back and realised that Dominique looked truly nervous. She felt a small shift in the level of dislike she currently held for her, as she recalled the first time she had gone for an arrest during an undercover operation. “Are you nervous?” She asked redundantly, switching to French since they were alone.

“A little,” Dominique admitted, shifting around as Camille fiddled to get the wire attached.

“Well just think about why you are here. I mean you must really care about nature to have done all the research to mean you knew there was a chance we could arrest him here. And you must have had to do a lot of convincing to get them to let you do, I know Guadeloupe aren’t overflowing with officers either.”

“Well, I am a woman on a mission,” she replied.

“Well, hopefully you’ll have achieved it by the end of the day.” Camille passed her the rucksack that Dominique slipped on. Camille placed to hands on her shoulders, turning her in various directions to check her over. “There, perfect, you can’t see a trace of it.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said.

Camille’s dislike increased again, she had checked very carefully. “Can you see something I can’t?” She asked sharply.

Dominique cowed almost immediately, “Oh no I didn’t mean the wire, I um, that is, um, yes it is good thank you very much.”

Camille decided she didn’t really care what Dominique was actually talking about, even though the girl did sort of look like she wanted to be asked. Instead she asked, “You want to go over the plan one more time?”

By way of answer Dominique just intoned, “Look out for nests close to ground level, or otherwise easily accessible. Point them out and then comment on how pretty the eggs are. See if he steals one, and make sure I point out he might get caught and ask if it is still legal.”

“Exactly,” Camille says. “I am _sure_ you can act like the crime might actually make him more attractive to you.” Her certainty came from the fact she was still sure Dominique was hiding something, and was apparently good enough that Camille couldn’t figure it out, and her original theory that her interest in Richard wasn’t genuine was probably true as well. Dominique wasn’t finished, she surprised Camille by asking, “Any ground nesting species that have very attractive eggs I should maybe look out for?”

Camille looked up sharply, “I would think _you_ would know better than me, as the visiting wildlife expert.”

Dominique swallowed nervously, “I wouldn’t call myself an expert. And I don’t usually go around disturbing nests so am not that familiar with eggs.”

“What?” Camille snapped, her voice rising. “And you think that I don’t respect wildlife enough not to also leave nesting birds alone?”

Dominique looked alarmed, “That isn’t what I meant at all!! I just thought you might know off the top of your head.”

“Well I don’t. Just pretend any damn egg you find is pretty, I am sure you can charm him!”

Her raised voice must have attracted attention, because a cautious knock was made at the door and Richard called through, “Er..Detectives, everything ok in there?”

Camille walked over and wrenched the door open. “It is fine.” She told him. “We are good to go.” Richard looked to Dominique for confirmation, and the woman composed herself quickly before nodding.

“Then let’s get you downstairs and waiting for Punt,” he said, though he still sounded somewhat uncertain.

In Camille’s mind, Dominique had just made a fatal mistake. Because until now she had been quite the actress, but when she tried to cover for her question her explanation was bad acting. She wasn’t on this island for birds, she had some other agenda…an entirely different mission. And now Camille wasn’t going to let her leave until she found out what it was, and exposed the truth.

 

* * *

 

 

Waiting outside in the hallway Richard spent quite a lot of time staring at the tips of his shoes and contemplating what a rubbish actor he was. In the car on the way in he had become convinced Camille would be able to tell he was now hiding something from her. And so he talked insistently the whole time, which had proved useful in finalising the plan (little did he know then it would not be the final plan) but was so out of character she was probably highly suspicious.

Then, once he was in Dominique’s presence, he had stupidly been unable to stop looking for similarities between the two women. And had found plenty. Camille no doubt thought he had been ogling, which was not going to put him in her good books. Briefly, Richard had considered calling the whole thing off – it would be much easier to just send Dominique back to Guadeloupe, perhaps call her when she was there and advise her there were better ways to get to know her sister. He was kind of worried about the pair of them in the hotel room alone right now, but then he supposed if Camille hadn’t recognised Dominique for who she truly was yet it was unlikely to happen in the next few minutes.

Suddenly, Camille’s raised voice could be heard from behind the door. He didn’t know what she was saying – they were speaking French – but he knew it wasn’t happy. Dwayne, who did speak French, was frowning heavily. This couldn’t be good. Oh God, Dominique hadn’t chosen this moment to confess who she was?  He hurried forward and knocked, albeit with some hesitancy on the door and called through, “Er..Detectives, everything ok in there?”

He waited a moment, before the door was opened suddenly by a furious looking Camille who informed him they were apparently good to go. Dominique, who looked only a little shaken, nodded her agreement. The argument could not have been about what he thought then.

That joy was still to come.

 

 

 

 


	9. Caught in the Act

Dominique had made it pretty damn clear Camille wasn’t needed or wanted as part of the arrest. And as a consequence, Camille did not see why she should hang about at the nature reserve, waiting for little miss perfect to partially entrap Punt and then call for her male slaves to come and take him into custody. So she insisted on returning to the station – somebody had to man it. Richard had told her he had intended to get Fidel to do that, whilst Dwayne went on the usual patrols and he and Camille waited for the arrest. Camille basically ignored him, storming off to the station and leaving him with Fidel. She thought he would call her out – drag her back and give her a dressing down for insubordination, but he said nothing. As she cooled off at the station, a little fear crept it that he might be saving it for later. Things were often tense between the two of them – swinging from an easy and intimate friendship to at each other’s throats in a matter of hours. Perhaps this was all he needed to request her transfer and replace her with Dominique? Well if that happened she wouldn’t take it laying down. Dominique was the main disruptive force here, not her, with her secretes she was keeping from all of them.

It was ninety minutes until they returned. Ninety very long minutes. From the fact that Fidel came in first with a handcuffed and very sullen Punt, she could assume it was mission accomplished. The pair were followed closely by Richard, and then by Dominique and Dwayne – the latter must have bumped into them as he was finishing the market place patrol. “So it’s over then?” She said. The question came out with more of an air of finality to it then she had intended. If people noticed they didn’t say anything.

Richard just nodded in response, looking tense, whilst indicating to Fidel that Punt should be taken back to the cells. Dwayne, however, was a little more enthusiastic in his response. “From the sounds of it Dominique here did a smash up job!”

“She did do very well,” Richard agreed, sending a small smile in the direction of the Lieutenant. “Especially considering it was her first undercover assignment.”

“Has it give you a taste for undercover work?” Camille asked Dominique, who looked initially surprised to be addressed, and then thrilled.

“I’m not sure where I want to specialise yet,” she said.

“Well,” Camille continued. “Most undercover missions are much longer and more challenging. And you don’t get a whole lot of praise like you have here either. After all, it is just your job.”

There then followed an awkward silence, and Camille thought she could feel Richard watching her but chose to ignore him. Fidel returned from the cells and looked bemused at the sudden tension in the room. Dwayne cleared his throat loudly and said, “Well, this wasn’t just her job on this occasion, and I think that drinks are in order to celebrate her success!”

“Oh you don’t have to,” Dominique protested demurely.

“Of course we don’t have to!” Dwayne cried. “We want to!”

“It is kind of tradition around here when we close a case,” Richard offered up, leading Dominique to eventually nod her agreement. “We’ll all go after work then,” he concluded. Camille couldn’t help but note the way he had said ‘all’ – she felt it rather presumptuous.

“Not me,” she said lightly, trying to make it sound like it wasn’t a big deal. Even though essentially they were, but one she didn’t want to have to deal with. “Oh come on Camille!” Dwayne cajoled. “It’ll be fun.”

“Besides,” Fidel added. “It isn’t just celebratory drinks, Dominique has to head back to Guadeloupe tomorrow, so they are goodbye drinks as well.” Camille held her breath for a moment, waiting for somebody to interject that she would soon be back, but no such suggestion was made to her relief. But still, she had no desire for another evening of Richard awkwardly flirting with Domonique.

“No, really,” All the men looked at her as if she needed to say more than just that. So she shrugged and added dismissively, “I just have better things to do.”

It was followed by another silence, she looked up and saw that Richard looked ready to protest, but before he could say anything Dominique stepped in. With a voice an octave higher than usual, she said, “No it’s fine. See you later,” before turning on her heel and leaving rapidly.

“Wait…” Richard began, but Dominique either didn’t hear him or ignored him. “Camille!” He said angrily instead.

“What?” She shot back defiantly. Rather than engage her, Richard reached to put his jacket back on. “Where are you going, it’s the middle of the day?”

“I’m going to apologise for your behaviour, since you don’t seem to be inclined to!” He told her, before marching straight out of the door after Dominique.

 

* * *

 

 

She moved fast. She was young, that was the problem, and Richard wasn’t anymore – and as a consequence he had lost Dominique in the crowded market place. An elderly woman saw him glancing around rather desperately and, grabbing his arm, pointed off in the direction of the harbour. Unsure as to why he had been accosted, Richard didn’t immediately head off, and she said aloud in heavily accented English, “You upset that pretty girl? She went off that way.”

_Why_ she was assuming Richard had been responsible for upsetting her was something he didn’t want to contemplate. He had overheard islanders in the past accusing him of lacking tact, coming off brash, but generally meaning well. They probably all assumed he had insulted Dominique by accident, as he somehow managed to regularly do with Camille. He bet nobody would believe him if he said Camille was the reason for all the drama this lunchtime.

Keeping a keen lookout, Richard continued to wind down to the harbour until he spotted her, standing by one of the walls and staring off into the distance. He came to a stop. His brain noted that her posture reflected that of Camille’s when she was upset. As a consequence, his brain was telling him to back away slowly as he was ill equipped to deal with this situation. He wasn’t even sure his hanky was clean. But, as he had done for her sister, Richard overcame his desire to run away and instead approached cautiously. A mantra about not saying anything stupid began to run through his head – a pretty useless one at that, since he didn’t usually realise something was stupid until after he had said it.

“Dominique,” he said, when he was standing just behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin, clearly so lost in her thoughts she had not been aware of his approach. It was not a good start.

“Sir,” she said, angling her head away from him and hurriedly wiping her face.  “Sorry did you need me? I forgot there might be reports…statements…paperwork you need me to sign.”

“I…” he began. “Well, actually now I think about it, yes, but that isn’t why I came. I wanted to see, um, if you were okay?” It ended up coming out like he was questioning his own reasons for being there.

“Yes, I am fine thank you,” she told him simply.

Which then left Richard at a bit of a loss as to what to say next. He has kind of been hoping she would be emotionally honest in the way the French tended to be and he wouldn’t have to push for any details. Not the case. So he decided to say what he had intended to say anyway, “Um, you should ignore Camille, she has been in a funny mood for a while. She was rude though, and I apologise for her behaviour.”

“Well she shouldn’t be forced to come if she doesn’t want to.”

“Yes,” he continued, starting to actually feel a bit impatient with Dominique’s whole putting on a brave face act. “But it would have been nice for you if she did come.”

“Of course,” Dominique nodded in agreement. “How do you say in English? The more the merrier?”

Richard sighed, “No, I meant because she is your sister. A fact you are aware of but for some reason have not chosen to share with Camille, or anyone else as far as I can tell. In fact this whole act thing you’ve had going on for days is all very confusing really. I mean, what were you doing, checking her out in case you didn’t like her? Then if that turned out to be the case, you could leave without her knowing the truth – a sort of literal being able to pick your own family scenario? This whole thing seems very elaborate – I mean for God’s sake how long were you waiting for a case to come up that would give you a valid excuse for coming over here? You know they run ferries everyday right? Did it not occur to you that you could just take one and say ‘hello’ or more likely in your case ‘bonjour’, I’m your sister? Instead of deceiving your commanding officer, and dragging the rest of us into your little charade as well?”

Dominique looked at him, momentarily stunned into silence. Then she went very pale and sat on the sea wall, tears filling her eyes again.

Oh, thought Richard. _That_ was the stupid thing I shouldn’t have said.

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, I don’t even really _like_ birds,” Dominque admitted. They were sitting in a café not far from the harbour, one that was very quiet and he knew not to ever be frequented by the rest of the team because this is where he came to escape them. After causing Dominique to cry intensely, the same elderly woman from the market somehow materialised placing her arms around the girl and making soothing sounds whilst shooting dirty looks at Richard. They had a low conversation in French, before the women patted Dominique’s hand and tottered off to do whatever she did all day when she wasn’t on the lookout for frantic young women. Richard had then suggested they perhaps talk things through, probably one of the bravest suggestions he had ever made given his distaste for emotional situations, which is how they had ended up in the café.

In the grand scheme of things, not liking birds was probably really quite minor, but Richard found himself really quite piqued by the fact. He had spent hours showing her round the reserve, dredging up nearly every fact he had learnt about the bird life of Saint Marie in an effort to make her feel welcome (and, if he was honest, because he like having the attention of a pretty girl) and her interest had all been faked. An act. He really should have seen that coming.

“Birds were just the first thing that came up, a chance to get over here. I did much studying to try and pull it off,” she continued.

“Why did you need ‘a thing’ in the first place?” Richard asked, thinking they might just be better off being direct.

Of course, that was never going to be a question with a simple answer. “It started when my mother died,” she said, causing Richard to wince in sympathy. “She wasn’t much in touch with her family and her funeral…it was kind of sparse. People from the station turned up but that was really to support me rather than they knew my Mum. And it made me think that I didn’t want to be cut off from my family. The thing was, I might have wanted a sibling, but I wasn’t sure _they_ wanted to know me.”

“I am not sure Camille would want to know you,” Richard said bluntly. The look on Dominique’s face made him instantly regret it – he wasn’t doing very well today. “I’m sorry that was…”

“No it is fine,” she interrupted him. “You are quite clearly right.”

“Still I could have been a bit more…sensitive,” he said. “But you know…Camille has never seemed fond of her father or the woman he left her and her mother for, and you being the product of that union…”

“Oh I am not the product of ‘that union’,” Dominique said quickly. This gave Richard pause, he raised his eyebrows at her and she continued. “My mother was the other woman to the other woman, if that makes sense?” Actually, it just made Richard’s head hurt, and his confusion must have showed. “My father had an affair with _Maman_ whilst married to the woman he left Catherine Bordey for. I only knew him a little, actually, his second marriage initially survived his affair with my mother and I would see him the odd weekend. And even more rarely, my sister.”

“Your sister?” Surely if she had met Camille before that would have come up before now.

“Her name is Melissa, the daughter from his second marriage.”

“So you already know one of your siblings?” Richard was starting to think they might need to draw out a family tree to keep this all straight in his head.

“Yeah, and this one I know doesn’t want to know me. She always _hated_ me when we were young – blamed me for the eventual breakdown of her parent’s marriage. Daddy scorned a lot of women. My mother said my father probably had a child on every island in the Lesser Antilles. ‘You marry yourself a white man, Dominique’ she used to tell me. ‘At least then you’ll know you aren’t related’.” She smiled bitterly.

“Wow,” Richard said, pretty much lost for words. “Well, it gives you and Camille something else in common,” he tried to make it sound like a positive. “If that is the case who am I to say if she would want to know you or not…”

“No, you were right the first time,” she said with a resigned air. “After all, it wasn’t hard for me to track down Camille, I’m a police officer. And so is she – if she was interested she could have easily traced her father and any children he might have had. So I came up with this CRAZY plan. I would find a reason to come over here, and work with your police force, acting like I didn’t know who Camille was. Then I could get her to like me, and later on pretend I had figured out our connection, and it would mean it would be harder for her to reject me.”

Richard, in his more honest moments, thought he might have insecurity issues. Right now though Dominique was making him feel pretty good about himself. “That _is_ crazy.” Whoops. Strike three for the stupid things said today. But Dominique just nodded.

“I know, I really messed up.” She looked to the heavens for a moment, composing herself. “To me it seemed logical, the best way to get her to get her to like me was to make sure I fit in really well with the team. Within moments of meeting her it was clear she was really fond of you and I thought if I could get you to like me…instead she had got completely the wrong idea. Thinks I am trying to steal you or something.”

Richard stared at her blankly for a moment, before asking for clarification, “When you say ‘you’, you mean the plural you, referring to the team and not the singular meaning me, right?”

“What?” She asked, leaning forward and looking at him like _he_ was the crazy one.

“Of course you mean the team. You couldn’t possibly be using you to refer to me because that would mean you thought that Camille thought that you were trying to steal me, which makes no sense, why would you be stealing me? And more importantly why would Camille care?” Some part of his brain registered he was rambling again, but wasn’t able to exert enough control to actually stop him. “Well I don’t know why Camille doesn’t like you but I don’t think it is because of that. I don’t understand her moods ninety percent of the time, never seem to know what she is thinking. She is quite often unreasonably angry with me when I don’t want to partake in some activity she has arranged. Maybe that is it, did you refuse to climb the volcano with her?”

“I…” Dominique began, but seemed to be unable to finish the sentence. “Have you ever considered reading popular psychology?”

Richard was starting to think this might be the strangest conversation he had ever had, “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Well, you say you struggle to understand Camille’s behaviour. I just wondered if popular psychology might help you with that. You don’t have to get books, I don’t know about men’s magazines but women’s magazines quite often have articles,” she explained earnestly. “Could be good for your personal development,” she added.

“I really don’t think you in a position to be advising anyone on their personal development,” Richard was quick to point out. “I’m not the one who faked an interest in wildlife crime in an attempt to get in with her sister’s colleagues so she could make said sister like her without revealing her true identity.”

“Yes,” Dominique said slowly. “That is correct.”

“So perhaps we should bring the conversation back around to what you are going to do about that?”

“I’ll take the next ferry home,” she said quickly. “Just fax whatever forms you need me to sign over. I’ll tell my superiors what I did as well, save you having to do it, though I understand if you ring in a few days to check I have done as I said I would.”

“Oh, I thought…you aren’t going to tell Camille?”

“God no! She clearly hates me and as you have pointed out has no interest in discovering her siblings. It is best that I just leave, as soon as possible. Perhaps it’ll be third time lucky!”

“What do you mean third time lucky? How many siblings do you have?”

Dominique leaned back, counting on her fingers, “Found six so far. I think there is a seventh, but in that case I’d need a DNA test as there was another man who could be the father. Of course I am joking about the next sibling, if I do contact them I assure you I will have learned from my mistakes.” She looked carefully at Richard then, coming to a realisation, “You’re going to tell her, aren’t you?”

“I’m _really_ not that good at keeping secrets. Especially from Camille, she drags them out of me,” he told her apologetically. “I can wait until you are off the island though…and try to keep her busy for a few days, until she has calmed down, so she doesn’t get straight on a boat to strangle you.”

“Thank you,” Dominique said. “I think.”

“And there is no need to confess anything to your superiors. You are still a good police officer, there is a criminal off the streets – well, out of the nature reserves – tonight because of your actions. It’s still a win, even if your intentions weren’t so pure. Plus your boss might already know something more was going on…”

Dominique placed her head in her hands, “Of course, you called the station, found out my full name. I forgot to ask how you’re found out. I imagine there will be words when I get home.” They sat in silence for a few moments, both unsure what to say next. Eventually Dominique ventured, “Well I suppose I should go pack and aim to catch the late afternoon ferry…”

“Yes, well, I suppose this would be goodbye then.” And probably a very awkward one.

“Right, yes, I should truly thank you for not…I don’t know how you would say it in English. Sending me to see a psychiatrist?”

“Having you sectioned,” Richard informed her.

“Would you do me a favour?” She asked almost shyly. “Will you say goodbye to…to the others for me?”

“Sure,” he said simply. Then, because he instinctively knew there was more, added, “And?”

“Tell Camille…” She rose from the table, pushing her chair aside and considering her words carefully. “Tell her I’m sorry.”

And without so much as a glance back, she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, can’t remember the last time I updated a fic mid-week. One more (likely to be rather long) chapter to go.


	10. Resolving to Act

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said one more chapter, but that didn’t work. Sorry. Hey I am at least back to writing! Will try to get the (actual) final chapter up soon.

That was what Richard needed. A very large dose of resolve. The resolve to go and tell Camille the truth about Dominique’s identity. The resolve to tell her the way she had behaved recently just hadn’t been cricket. The resolve to stop Camille from completely over-reacting both to the news about Dominique and any criticism of her behaviour. The resolve to tell her how much he…no, wait, that didn’t come in to it at all.

He mentally congratulated himself on actually making it to her house. This was something that should be done in person. Actually, he was parked around the corner from her house, because this gave him time to…gather more resolve. Richard sort of wished he had bought the magazines he had seen earlier. He hadn’t gone into the newsagents specifically for them, but when he spotted the so called “popular psychology” magazines Dominique had described he did pause to flick through them. They seemed rather vapid to him, but perhaps needed greater scrutiny, however at between 4 and 6 quid each he felt they were a waste of money. He didn’t need to be an expert on psychology – in fact when it came down specifically to the psychology of women, he didn’t think it was possible to even be _competent_ in the topic, let alone an expert.

Now, he had let his thoughts wonder again. Where had he been? Oh yes. Resolve.

 

* * *

 

 

Camille’s face was entirely passive when she opened the door. This terrified him. Richard suspected Camille _thought_ she knew what was coming, and the passive expression was her deliberately masking her true feelings. Surprise would have been better, because then his news could just replace it with more surprise – well, shock. Oh, her face wasn’t passive anymore, it was looking a bit annoyed.

“Richard!” She said, snapping her fingers, and he realised the annoyance might be because he hadn’t actually spoken yet. So much for his resolve.

He gave his head a little shake, “Yes, Camille, I need to speak to you.”

She didn’t budge an inch, leaning across the door so her body filled it, preventing any access. He didn’t need a magazine to tell him what that body language meant: he wasn’t welcome. “Yes?” She said by way of response.

Deciding to be direct rather than drop another hint, he indicated the living room he could see behind her and said, “It would be better inside.” For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse, but then she gave a nonchalant shrug and straightened up, allowing him access. “Thank you,” he told her as he entered. She shut the door, turning to face him, but she didn’t sit. So he felt that he couldn’t sit. Sort of like how one never sat before the Queen, or turned their back on her. He supposed a cup of tea was out of the question.

Curiosity was one of Richard’s weaknesses. The need for the full picture – the whole truth. Plenty of Detectives would happily toast an arrest made on the basis of means and opportunity, even when they weren’t entirely sure what the motive was. If CCTV footage showed them committing the crime red handed, that was enough. Not so for Richard – he needed that last piece of the puzzle, the complete story. It mattered to him. And sometimes it had mattered to the suspect as well – leading to the revelation they were not as guilty as it seemed, and thus dogged pursuit of the truth did have its rewards.

This need did not start and end with murder cases. Which was unfortunate, because something Richard _really_ wanted to know was _why_ Camille had taken such a strong dislike to Dominique. Logically, he should just tell her the truth and then do as he promised and try to contain her for a few days whilst she calmed down. Forget all the odd behaviour she had shown the past few days. He had come up with arguments about why it was best for him to try and figure this out first, and how it had nothing to do with his own curiosity. If Camille had a very specific reason for her dislike of her half-sister, it could change the way he informed her of the facts.

“Why do you hate Dominique so much?” He instantly cringed, it had come out far blunter than he intended.

“Why do you want to know?” She shot back. Richard repressed a sigh, his mother had taught him never to answer a question with a question. Camille was not above such tactics though. He supposed it was at least not a complete denial, which would be harder to deal with.

He crossed his arms, still gripping his briefcase because he didn’t even feel welcome enough yet to put that down. “Because in general I trust your opinion of people. But I really don’t know where this hatred came from, it seems to lack logic.”

Camille shifted, actually stepping back from him. A quick movement of her hand pointlessly tucked already tucked hair that was already firmly behind her ears. “Hate is a strong word,” she countered. It was evident she was trying to buy time to think of her response.

He stared resolutely at her – having actually managed to find some resolve – and asked, “Well what would you call it?”

She met his eye. “Distrust. I don’t trust her.”

“You don’t trust a fellow police officer?”

“No, I don’t. You might think she is the best thing since sliced baguette…”

“Bread,” Richard interrupted her. “It’s best thing since sliced bread. Why would you even need sliced baguette?” The glare he received made him regret his interruption. He supposed it was inappropriate given the circumstances.

“You might think she is the best thing since sliced _bread,_ ” she spat. “But I am actually above pretty smiles and long legs and know how to spot somebody with an ulterior motive!”

Richard cocked his head to one side. Things were starting to make sense now – Camille had picked up on the fact Dominique was hiding something and hadn’t liked that she couldn’t figure out what that something was. “What makes you think she had an ulterior motive?” He asked, curious as to how she had spotted what the rest of them hadn’t.

“I just don’t think, I know! She has been after something from the moment she got her, the way she sucked up to all of you was pretty blatant at times.  I mean look at the way she visited you in the evenings and bought you that gift! She is clearly trying to get you on her side, to like her, because she is after something.”

“Yes,” Richard said simply. “She was.”

“She was what?” Camille echoed back.

“She was after something.”

“What was it?” She asked eagerly, stepping forward. Richard hesitated, and Camille jumped in, “Oh my God, did she try to seduce you?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Well you two have been shamelessly flirting,” Camille said, pointing a finger at him. “She probably thought you were an easy target!”

“Hang on a second,” he said, arms dropping to his side again. “A) I have _not_ been flirting, let alone shamelessly flirting and B) I am not an easy target!” She just started at him, and he relented, “Well we weren’t flirting.”

“Well maybe you didn’t _know_ you were flirting, but she was flirting with you, believe me.”

“She is nearly twenty years younger than me, and as Dwayne would said “way out of my league”, there is no logical reason why she would be flirting with me. I know I said I trusted your opinion but you have got it very wrong this time.”

“Oh have I?”

“Yes!”

“Well then, please, have a seat,” she swept her arm towards the armchair, before sitting on the sofa opposite with legs crossed. “And do enlighten me.”

Richard chose to remain standing. “Well you were right that she wanted me to like her.” A smug look appeared on her face, which Richard just ignored. “And she wanted Dwayne to like her, and Fidel, but the person she _most_ wanted to like her was you.”

“Is this just some theory you’ve formed based on your well known expertise in the field of female psychology?”

“No!” He huffed. “It is what she told me.”

“She told you that she wanted me to like her?” Camille asked.

“Yes.” He thought that had been clear.

Camille opened her arms wide and shrugged, “And why would that be important to her? Because she wants a transfer, and knows she’ll need to get on with everybody?”

“No,” he said, for what he hoped was going to be the final time. “It’s because she is your sister.” There, he had finally said it. It was a relief really. He stole a glance at her, expecting her pretty face to perhaps be ashen with shock, or screwed up in confusion…something suitably dramatic, anyway. Instead he found it a picture of irritation.

“Richard, for God’s sake, have you been browsing urban dictionary again?” This question phased him – Camille had introduced urban dictionary to him when he had failed to understand some of the more creative insults the young offenders were using these days. But he didn’t know how that was relevant to this moment. She leaned towards him, “Just because we are both of Caribbean decent, police officers and women does not mean we are sisters.” She used air quotes. “There is no obligation for us to be best friends, no us against the world mentality.” She sat back again, arms crossed. “I would not have thought you subject to such stereotypes.”

Yeah he really didn’t know what was happening. He decided to try again, “But you are sisters. Well half-sisters, you have the same father.”

“We have the same father,” she echoed back.

“Yes,” Richard said. “Her mother – who isn’t, I should add, the same women that your father left _your_ mother for – recently died. Dominique knew you existed and she wanted to get to know you, but she wasn’t sure that you would be interested in knowing her.” Richard paused, “It was a rather convoluted plan really. She was hoping the pair of you would get on. But that hope didn’t come to fruition…”

“She’s my sister…” Camille said, staring at a spot on the carpet, the same spot she had been looking at through Richard’s entire explanation.

“Yes…” He said slowly. He’d been expecting a slightly louder response, and was beginning to get concerned. “Um, do you want a glass of water or something?”

Camille looked up then, “So she was trying to get people _I_ like to like her because she wanted us to get on. She wasn’t trying to…oh god…I’m an idiot. I’ve acted like a complete idiot…I thought…” Camille put her face in her hands, shoulders sagging in defeat. She wasn’t crying, thank God, Richard didn’t think he could cope with tears right now. But she certainly wasn’t happy.

“You thought she was just trying to get a job here?” Richard asked, it was the only thing Camille had mentioned.

He couldn’t help but notice how she became very still. Without looking at him, she said, “Yes, that was it, I just thought she should be more open about it.” That didn’t ring true. Richard could understand why Camille might find slightly underhand tactics to secure a job distasteful, but he didn’t think it deserved the level of anger she had shown. She raised her head and glanced at him, must have read the doubt on her face, because she added, “I thought she might replace me.”

Those words hung in the air, he could feel the honesty in them. But Richard was surprised a confident woman like Camille would think she could lose her position to somebody less senior. He thought he had made it clear to her in the past how much he valued her as a team member, but perhaps the bumbling way his English reserve had of expressing gratitude was not enough for somebody so open. Richard still felt like there was something he was missing. Some clue he hadn’t worked out – just like when he was close to the end of a case, waiting for the idea buzzing around in his subconscious to work its way to the surface and reveal the whole truth. Bah, those psychology magazines couldn’t help him in this situation, could they? From what he could remember they had been full of articles on how to succeed in job interviews, secure your ideal man and how to tell if a woman was jealous.

Jealous. Now why did that word ring bells? His subconscious didn’t seriously think…

“You know she couldn’t replace you right?” He said. There was no harm in testing the waters a bit more, gathering more evidence. Which would no doubt prove this latest theory very wrong and a figment of his overactive imagination.

“Oh please don’t try to console me with that rubbish!” She said. “As you rightly pointed out, she is a great police officer in addition to apparently being the second most attractive one you’ve ever met…” Oh yes, he had forgotten about that slip up. She didn’t know he thought _she_ was the most attractive one. “And you got on a hell of a lot better with her than you do with me!”

Well. Well then. That wasn’t exactly evidence against. Before you could stop himself the words just spilled from his mouth, “Are you _jealous_?”

She looked ready to deny it for all of two seconds, but then she shocked him by saying, “Hey! I had to work hard to get even the tiniest pieces of information about you. I’ve done everything I can to try and make you feel at home here, feel welcome and…and wanted. She waltzes in and in 24 hours you’re liming together on the porch, drinking beers and regaling her with tales from your university years. So why don’t you just go run off into the sunset with each other!” Silence followed that proclamation. Camille took a deep breath and said, “You think I’m being ridiculous, don’t you? That I have been a complete idiot this past week?”

Richard finally sat then, choosing to do so beside her on the sofa. “Yes, I do. Firstly she is far too young for me and there is no chance she thinks of me that way, and I definitely don’t think about her in that way. And secondly, I would just say that Dominique and I got on better than you and I did at the start, but not better than we do now. But she had a distinct advantage. I didn’t, um, know she was your sister but I still think I recognised a lot of you in her, and it kind of made me trust her faster. Because of all that work you’d put in, as you said.”

She didn’t look mollified by his little speech, “But you still think I am an idiot.”

“Yes, but I actually quite like it,” he told her, repeating what she had said to him months before hand. She raised an eyebrow at him. “It is good to be occasionally reminded you aren’t perfect.”

She shook her head and scoffed, “You have never thought I am perfect.”

“You don’t know what I think,” Richard told her defensively.

“But we fight all the time,” she pointed out. “And you can be quite critical.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “Yes I can. But those are usually just about little things that only matter to a pendant like me.” He stared up at the ceiling, choosing his words carefully. This was a big gamble he was making. Yes, Camille had admitted she was jealous, but she hadn’t given any clear indication that it was because of anything…romantic. “In a lot of other things I do often thing you are perfect.”

He felt her shift on the sofa next to him, her hip now in contact with his. “And how does knowing I am not perfect change things for the better?”

“Well,” he began hesitantly. “It, you know, makes you more, um, attainable.”

“Attainable? You wish to attain me, do you?”

He could hear the smile in her voice, even though he didn’t dare look at her, so knew she didn’t take offense. Yet he still found himself backpedalling in panic, “I don’t mean like property, I mean, you know, that I could, or rather you aren’t…”

“Out of your league?” Camille suggested. “Has my behaviour gotten me relegated?”

Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, you are out of my league. I don’t know what I am thinking. I just…you see…I know! It reminds me like you’re like the FA cup!” He turned to her excitedly, it seemed like the perfect analogy, but she was looking at him blankly.

“You don’t know the FA cup?” She shook her head slowly. Now he was coming off as the crazy person, but that would probably just comfort her. “Well the FA cup is this competition in football. You know, you’re this kind and open person and because of that you give everyone a chance, you know? Even curmudgeonly middle aged English men. The FA cup, it isn’t just open to the top teams – any league team can enter. And sure, most of the time, it does go to a Premiership team. But every now and then a smaller team knocks out the rest of the competition and manages to win. So sometimes I think I might be able to beat off the competition, you know, on a very good day.”

“You’re an idiot,” she said, fondness in her tone.

He finally turned to look at her, offering, “I think we agreed you were too.”

“But you seem to have forgotten though that it is me who has been acting up all week because I was worried about the competition for _you._ I am not necessarily the prize here.”

“You _are_ ,” he said sincerely.

“Well then you’ve already won me.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised even though everything seemed to have been leading slowly to this. “Good.” They sat in silence for a moment. Richard steepled his fingers, examining each of them, until Camille nudged him with her hip. “I’m supposed to kiss you now, aren’t I?”

“Yes!” She confirmed, laughing lightly. “Though if you are really that reluctant I’m not going to…” Richard cut her off half way through her invitation to back down by placing a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her towards him so he could do the expected kissing thing. He had decided surprise might be his friend, thinking he might have gotten over his nerves by the time Camille got over the surprise. But she reacted quickly to the kiss, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and pulling him closer. That encouragement, that confirmation he was not imagining this whole situation, was all he needed. Richard had definitely not though this was how the conversation would end. The small voice in his head that felt guilty about this divergence from his original purpose was quickly quashed by the sensations caused by Camille shoving his jacket off before crawling into his lap.

Eventually she pulled away a little, they were both breathing heavily.  “I think we should go to bed.” It actually sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

“You don’t think it’s too soon?” He asked, nerves making themselves known again.

She started to undo the buttons on his shirt, “I don’t think it is too soon.”

“You’re a genius,” he told her, as she ran her fingers over his chest. And he kissed her again before she could protest.


	11. The Final Act

“ _Merde!”_

The vehement swearing of his lover was not the ideal way to be woken after there first time together. His French was minimal, but he knew what that meant. His first reaction, possibly because of his police training, was that some sort of crisis was occurring. A person had broken in perhaps. He then dismissed that thought – Camille would not simply swear, she would deal with the situation. In fact she could probably take an intruder down without waking him – her skill at hand to hand was rather intimidating. Richard was pretty sure she had used a few moves to gain dominance when she wanted it that very afternoon.

He found himself hit in the face by sheets as Camille shoved them out of the way to stumble out of bed. Oh God, this was a crisis, but one of regret. The swearing had come from her realising what they had done was a terrible idea.

“We’ve been asleep for _hours_ ,” Camille said as she danced about the room, collecting various items of clothing. These words didn’t instantly say regret to Richard.

“I, um,” He give his head a shake, hoping it would clear the mental fog. “Does it matter?”

She glared at him. Glaring was also probably not a good thing for your lover to do so soon after love making. “Ok, it matters,” he said – Richard hoped she would provide more explanation momentarily.

“I have made such a mess of things.” Shorts were being pulled on. Richard had to concentrate very hard on what she was actually saying, since she was still running about topless.

“You…don’t think we should have…?”

“Not that!” She said. “Of course I don’t mean this is a mess. Well, maybe a little, but a nice, beautiful one, you know. I’m talking about Dominique. I need to go find her and sort things out. I should have done it hours ago, but we were asleep.”

“Um, Camille,” Richard said, making the effort to sit up properly. “You aren’t going to find her on the island.” Camille paused from her attempt to do up her bra. She just looked at him and he continued, “When we had our conversation, she said she was going to head straight back to Guadeloupe, on the next ferry. Which was, uh, a couple of hours ago.”

Camille gave up entirely on trying to do the bra up, just leaving it hanging open at the back. She turned towards him, hands balled into a fists. Richard would have thought it would be difficult to take an angry person seriously in a state of semi-undress. This proved not to be the case with Camille. “And why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

Richard squirmed, wishing that he _was_ dressed for this conversation. “She was, uh, concerned by what your reaction would be. Thought you’d be ready to strangle her when you found out the truth. Christ, I thought you’d want to strangle her. So I offered to give her time to get off the island.” He was going to add the bit about promising to try and keep Camille busy for a few days as well, but seeing the rising tension in her body language, decided to skip over that little detail.

“Are you saying,” she began. “That you distracted me with sex to let my sister escape the island?”

“I…what…NO!” He protested. He lent forward and reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “I didn’t intend for this to happen. It just did.” She didn’t react to his words, just stared at the one sandal resting by her feet. “And you have to admit, it may be good for both of you to have a cooling off period to think things through properly, before deciding how to proceed.”

“What are you, some expert on psychology now?” She told the sandal, angling herself even further away from him.

Frustration flared inside of him. “You know what,” he said with enough force that it startled Camille into actually looking at him. “The way you two have been acting recently, I am starting to think I _might_ be far more qualified at this emotional stuff than previously thought. Can you honestly tell me you don’t think having time to think this through is a bad idea? There are plenty of things to consider.”

She began to fiddle with the sheet, bunching it into a knot before releasing it and smoothing it uselessly. “Have you ever wondered about the possibility of siblings before?” He continued. “And if you would want to know them if they did?”

“Siblings? One half-sister is enough to deal with, there isn’t need to inflate it.” The fact she was no longer snappy seemed to be progress.

“Yes, of course,” he said quickly. Too quickly. She picked up on it in an instant.

“We _are_ only talking about one half-sister here aren’t we Richard?” He remained silent. “ _Richard!”_

He cleared his throat, “Dominique mentioned your father may have a few other children…”

She stood up, hands fisted by her side, bra still half hanging off and looking faintly ridiculous, “ _How many?”_

 “Well…she isn’t sure of the precise numbers…but perhaps upwards of five.”

“Five!” Well, this revelation seemed to have made Camille forget she was angry with him. “This is something else you should have mentioned to me earlier as well, Richard.”

“Well I didn’t want you to have too much info to process at once.”

She lowered herself back down on to the bed. It occurred to her at last her bra was still only half on, and she reach around and hooked it. Richard found himself disappointed, which was an entirely inappropriate feeling given the context. “Five brothers and sisters? More than five? Am I going to turn out to be related to half the Caribbean?”

Richard gave a small shrug. “Well Dominique suggested you might want to stick to European men to ensure you don’t accidentally marry your half-brother.”

Camille gave him a sideways look, and raised an eyebrow, “A suggestion I am sure you fully support.”

Richard spluttered, “I, um, didn’t mean to imply that – uh – I am your only option. Plenty of other European men…um…and other options…like DNA testing.”

“Oh I am sure that’d go down well on a first date. Do you mind submitting to a DNA test, just want to check we don’t have the same father?” She told him with an eye roll. A long pause followed before she said, “No I think I will stick with European men. Maybe one specific European man.” A small smile was shot in his direction, and then she seemed to make a decision and crawled up the bed, settling down next to him and pulling the sheet up. “You’re right.”

“About what?” He asked.

She gave him a look. “You trying to rub it in?”

“No!” He protested, a little hurt. “But I have said several things in the last ten minutes. And I am not entirely sure to which you are referring.”

She frowned briefly. “A couple of things. You’re right I need some time to think about it. And you’re right that you might be better at this emotional stuff than people give you credit for. Than you have previously given yourself credit for.”

“Oh,” he felt quite pleased with himself.

“Though you were wrong on one point,” Camille hastened to add, as if trying to avoid him getting a big head. “Actually I _have_ thought about the possibility of siblings before. On a few occasions.”

“But you didn’t investigate it?” Richard guessed.

She shook her head. “I had heard rumours. I knew it probably wouldn’t be too difficult to figure out if my father had had more children after he left. But I didn’t pursue it.”

Richard stayed silent a moment, hoping she would continue on her own, but when no more was said he prompted, “Why not?”

She raised one shoulder, dropped it again. “I don’t know.” Richard was pretty sure she knew exactly why. He waited her out. “I suppose, well, my mother had always been enough for me. I didn’t want her to think, if I went off hunting siblings, it was because I had felt like I was missing out on something. And I didn’t need them, so I didn’t go looking.”

“And are things different now?”

“They have to be. She sought me out, I can’t ignore that.”

“Part of the reason Dominique left the island so rapidly was to give you exactly that option.”

Camille contemplated this for a moment. “No,” She said eventually. “I mean, surely I should at least apologise for the way I treated her? After that…well you’re right…I’m not sure.” She bit her lip. “And I don’t want to hurt my mother.”

“You know,” Richard began. “Your mother is one of the toughest women I know. Maybe you should just talk to her about it – see what her thoughts actually are on the matter.”

Camille turned on her side towards him, “Are you, Richard Poole, actually advocating talking about my feelings?”

“Well,” said Richard. “I guess I am.”

Camille sighed. “That is going to be one awkward conversation.”

“Yup. Glad I don’t have to have it.”

Camille punched him in the arm.

 

* * *

 

 

Richard convinced Camille she should speak to her mother that very night. She had tried to delay it by attempting to distract him with much more pleasant activities. He showed surprising willpower in resisting her proposals, and packed her off, saying he would be at his place if she wanted to talk afterwards. If he kept this up she’d be deferring to _him_ on the emotional aspects of cases. It was quite the role reversal.

She got to the bar as it was closing, the clock edging towards midnight. Her mother was wiping down the bar, keeping half an eye on the few remaining customers who were lingering over the dredges of their drinks. Her cleaning efforts ceased the second she saw her daughter. “Camille!” She cried. “What has been going on? I had expected you all here tonight but no! Fidel and Dwayne sat in one corner, looking glum, and said they didn’t know what was going on. And you ignored my messages.”

“I wasn’t ignoring your messages…I was just busy.”

“Yes, but busy with what?” Catherine scrutinised her daughter. “What aren’t you telling me?” She poked Camille in the arm and then asked, “Oh, is it a man?”

Now, a man did partially contribute to what had been going on, and Camille didn’t want to lie to her mother. But discussing what had happened between her and Richard would probably take them off topic and allow her to avoid sharing what she was really her to discuss. Unfortunately her hesitation in answering was taken as confirmation by Catherine.

“ _Mon Dieu,_ you and Richard actually slept together?” Catherine slapped the dishcloth down on the bar, transferring a hand to one hip. “I didn’t think it would ever happen in my lifetime! What, you two have some kind of near death experience to speed things along?”

Camille was having difficulty in processing what she had just heard. Her mother shook her head. “What, you think it wasn’t obvious?”

“Well I didn’t think it was _that_ obvious,” she eventually admitted.

“And now I suppose things are horribly awkward between you and you have come running here to hide. Well, let him be the one to request a transfer, I haven’t had you back long and I don’t want you going off again. I’m an old woman! I need my daughter close to me!”

“No! _Maman_ , it isn’t awkward. Everything is fine between us. That isn’t why I am here.”

“Oh,” Catherine said, trying to keep the surprise off her face. “Well I am glad it seems to be working out.”

“Hang on, you think it won’t work out?”

“Oh never mind that, it isn’t what you came here for, what was that?”

Camille was tempted _not_ to let the subject go – but again, it would just be avoiding the real reason she was here. She could prove to her mother that she and Richard could work as a couple by simply being a couple. Hadn’t they already had and survived their first fight?

“Are you going to tell me why you are here, or not?” Her mother asked, losing patience.

“Dominique is my half-sister.” Camille had decided on the way over that when she did say it, it should be too the point. However, it came out a little more succinct than intended.

Catherine’s eyebrows knitted together for a moment, then the confusion melted away. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “Yes, she does look like you. The whole time she was here something about her bothered me. That make sense.” She then picked up the cloth and went back to scrubbing the bar.

“ _Maman_?” Camille said, feeling sick. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Because I just told you that I have a sister. Which means my father had children with other women.”

Catherine paused once again. She gave a sigh, “Well, that was always a possibility. I had heard rumours, of course, but chose to ignore them. Though I always felt guilty about that.”

“Guilty?” Camille said. “Why on earth would you feel guilty about it?”

“Well, if you had siblings, perhaps I should have found out for your sake. You had a right to know them – and they should know about you. They are your blood, your family after all.”

“ _You’re_ my family,” Camille said, reaching across the bar and taking her mother’s hand. “You are all I have ever needed.”

Catherine squeezed it, and smiled at her daughter, “Its sweet of you to say. But you haven’t ever known anything else. Now you have a chance. Dominique seems like a sweet girl, you should get to know her.”

Camille unclasped her mother’s hand. She began to trace patterns in the slight dampness left on the bar. “You think so?”

Catherine didn’t fall for that, “You don’t think so?”

She didn’t respond immediately. Camille realised her mother would need a little background, “She came here knowing I was her sister, but didn’t tell me. Wanted to scope me out, see if I was open to the idea of having a little sister. That is pretty strange behaviour, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Catherine drew the word out. “It is, I suppose. She seemed quite confident to me. Do you know what prompted her to seek you out in the first place?”

“Um, her mother just died.”

“Oh that poor girl!” Catherine cried. “She is so young, as well.”

“She isn’t a child,” Camille said. She felt rather defensive. “It doesn’t make up for her lying.”

“She told you she wasn’t your sister?”

Camille leaned back and glared at her mother, “No.”

“Then she didn’t lie, she omitted the truth.” It seemed like a pretty fine line to Camille, but she didn’t say anything. “And I think her mother dying does mean she should be more easily forgiven for a little irrational behaviour.” Catherine hesitated before asking the next question, and Camille knew before she opened her mouth what it would be, “I suppose…I suppose he isn’t in her life either?” Camille just shook her head. “Then she is on her own?”

“I guess, I don’t know…all of the details.”

Catherine crossed her arms on top of the bar and leaned towards her daughter, “Then you should find them out. If you came here, and I suspect you did, to get my blessing for this little venture then you have it. And you can tell Dominique she is always welcome in this bar, no matter who her father is.”

Camille leaned forward and quickly kissed her mother on the cheek, “You’re a good person, _Maman_.”

“I know,” she replied with a quick smile. “Though you’re the saint.”

“Me?” Camille asked.

“Well, at the very least you have the patience of one,” Catherine elaborated. She shook her head, “Richard Poole? Well, you’ve always known what you want, and you always got it, ever since you were a little girl. Richard should probably be the one I feel sorry for…”

And on that note, Camille decided it was time to retire for the evening. Not to her own bed, but to the man’s her mother was so worried for…

 

* * *

 

 

Camille took an extended lunch break the next day. She made her way down to the docks, looked across the water to Guadeloupe. She had been wondering just how many relatives she had across that brief expanse of sea. Were all her siblings on that island? Was her father still there? Perhaps these were too big questions, with too complicated answers, for her to be contemplating at the moment. Take it one day at a time, one sibling at a time…

Richard had, upon request and a promise that she had fully thought things through, handed over Dominique’s mobile number. Camille owed Domonique two things, an apology and, as her mother had pointed out, to find out all the details. She stared at the screen for a little while, thumb hovering over the call button and wondering if it was too soon.

Before she could change her mind she pressed down, and lifted the phone to her ear. It was answered after two rings, not with a hello but with the sound of fumbling and background noise. “Oui? ‘Allo?” a familiar voice eventually came on the line.

Camille spoke back in French, “Hello. It’s, um, me.” The pause that followed was so long that she added, “Camille.” She thought perhaps Dominique had not recognised her voice.

“Yes, sorry, I know,” she spluttered. “I just didn’t expect to hear from you…”

“So soon?” Camille finished.

“Ever,” Dominique admitted.

“Oh, right.” Camille didn’t really know how to respond, so carried on with what she was originally going to say. “Anyway, I was just wondering, maybe we could get a drink sometime? I think we have some…interesting things to talk about.”

Camille heard a sharp intake of breath at the other end of the line. “You could come here, again, if you like. Richard and the boys would love to see you again I am sure. And I spoke to my mother about you. She said you were always welcome at her bar.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Camille said.

“That would be good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank goodness, another one finished! Sorry about the huge gap in writing. My laptop was broken, and then it has been mental at work. In addition I suffer from very bad RSI and some evenings can’t type. I will be away next week for meetings but hopefully can get some more fic written after that!


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